Xena
by TheManFromMudos
Summary: When the crew of the DSPSCV Archimedes receive a distress call from a nearby ship, they are reluctant to go aboard. Navigator Matthew Jones is particularly distressed when fellow crew member Cara Holmes goes aboard and is inevitably killed by an unknown organism. But Matthew soon realises that he doesn't need Cara to be happy. In fact, he doesn't need human companionship at all...
1. I

**Xena**

*NOTE- Hello everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and today I'm back with a brand new story. If you've read my other stories, or have been reading my work since the start, then you're in for a surprise. This story will be very different from the K rated works that I have written so far. It's rated M, for language, violence, and other stuff. Furthermore, the concept itself is a little… strange. It's an idea that was suggested to me by a friend a few months ago, and I thought it seemed quite an interesting one, so I decided to give it a go. Please don't judge me too harshly; like I said, this is a drastic change of tone from my usual stories. Just read on, and try to enjoy. It's Xena. THANK YOU!*

*DISCLAIMER – I do not own, nor have I ever owned, nor will I ever own (although it would be pretty great) the Alien franchise or any of the people, places, objects or entities that exist within it. I am, however, the proud owner of the DSPSCV Archimedes and the JMC XH-12. This story may also contain references to other franchises, which I also do not own. Try and find them all! THANK YOU!*

 **I**

Galactic Standard Date/Time Stamp: 19th March 2319

Deep Space Planetary Seeding & Colonisation Vessel Archimedes - Reg no. 115935103

\- Mainframe AI: Alpha Iota Systems Central Intelligence Unit 42 - 'Archie'

\- Crew: 6 – Commanding, Navigational, Admin, Medical & Technical (2)

Current Assignment: Return to Earth following successful seeding operations in Outer Veil Systems

Expected Time of Arrival: 13th July 2320

Heavy. That was how my eyelids felt as I slowly lifted them open. I didn't know how long they'd been closed for. How long I'd been asleep. I gazed upwards at the cocoon of thick glass that covered my bed. Reaching my arms over my head, I found two handles attached to the glass near its base. I clasped my hands around the handles, and after looking around for a green flashing light, I tugged upwards on them. With a loud click, the mechanism unlocked, and the glass slowly began to slide over my head, until its edge was far enough down the bed for me to sit up comfortably.

"A-" I began, attempting to speak for the first time in God knows how long. Sadly, I failed, and began coughing violently. Clearing my throat, I tried again.

"Archie?" I announced aloud, although my room was empty. Nevertheless, a slightly synthesised voice did reply, originating from a small speaker on the wall.

"Good morning, Senior Navigational Officer Matthew Jones." Archie said plainly. Truly the voice of indifference, was Archie. Intelligent by design, but sadly boring by his own vocation. I got up out of bed and went over to my desk, which was scattered with scraps of paper and pens without lids.

"Thanks, Archie." I told the unseen man, sitting down at the desk. "Can you give me a date/time stamp, by any chance?"

"Certainly, sir." He replied. "The date is the 19th March 2319, and the time is 0815 hours, GMT." I sighed, and nestled my head in my hands as I tried to understand his words.

"2319?" I eventually said. "We're not due to reach Earth until July next year. Why have you woken us up?"

"With respect, sir, I am unauthorised to divulge this information at the present time." Archie said calmly. "Senior Lieutenant Grike has asked that all crew members attend a meeting in the Briefing Room at 0830 hours for full details. He also asks that all crew members wear full uniform and are equipped with their timecards." And with that, the speaker buzzed and fell silent.

Groaning, I got to my feet, and went over to the wardrobe to change. 'Woken up a year early', I muttered to myself. 'This better be worth it.' Sliding open a large panel in the wall, I pulled out a pair of plain black trousers, a black shirt with a white band around the right arm, and a white tie with a small logo in the centre. In my desk drawer was a pair of white socks and a white belt, which also bore the same logo. Finally, beside the hypersleep pod were the black parade shoes. The full uniform of Ashbridge Industries International. A few minutes later, I was fully dressed, and stood before the mirror adjusting my tie. I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out my rank slides, two black squares which bore the text 'SenNav' and the Ashbridge Industries logo. After attaching the rank slides to my shoulder epaulettes, I was finally ready to go.

Grabbing my timecard from the desk drawer, I stepped out of my living quarters and into the corridor. The blue-white strip lights on the ceiling lit the place ominously. Turning to the right, I walked along the corridor until I reached a junction, where I turned left. I followed this corridor to the end, which brought me onto the observation deck. I stopped for a while and gazed out of the huge, sweeping window into the depths of space. Haunting, but beautiful. We really were nowhere right now. Nothing but the faint glow of distant stars. For several moments, I simply admired it, taking in the vastness of it all. Then I realised that I was wasting time, so I continued on.

To either side of the observation deck were staircases. These both led to the upper deck, but to get to the Briefing Room it would be quicker to take the starboard-side stairway, so I did. Heading up the steps, I was met with another short corridor, along which was the door to the Briefing Room. Without further hesitation, I went in, and saw that everybody else had already arrived. Well, almost everybody else. Around the table in the centre of the room sat three men and a woman. The first man was Nathan Smith, who bore the words 'SCI/MED' on his shoulders. He was the ships Science and Medical Officer. Next to him was Ryan Goddard, who wore a black jumpsuit rather than a uniform. He was an engineer, 1st Technician. Ex-Weyland-Yutani, too, Ryan was.

"Alright, Matt?" A voice came from the third man at the table. 2nd Technician Bradley Nicholson. The lowest-ranked crew member aboard, but he didn't let that bother him. I nodded back at him and smiled.

"Not really, Brad." I answered. "Some bell-end woke me up a year early." Everyone chuckled slightly as I sat down. Of course, the last person at the table was Warrant Officer Cara Holmes. Being the only woman aboard, Cara was constantly being pestered by the men (regrettably including myself), yet Off-World Association Regulations somehow permitted it. After slotting my timecard into the nearby machine, I sat down at the table, and inevitably asked about the one crew member that wasn't present.

"Where's his highness, then?" I asked. Although Grike was technically the highest-ranking officer on the ship, he was generally disliked by everyone else aboard. He was notorious for his fear of long-haul spaceflights, any form of spacewalk, hypersleep or suspended animation, and basically anything else to do with space travel. That being said, he didn't let it show, and instead masked his fear by being a complete and utter dickhead. In fact, just as this thought was going through my head, he waltzed in to the room, late of course, and began to mouth off.

"Less of the sarcasm, Jones." The angered man said sternly. "And that's Senior Lieutenant Grike, to you lot."

"Oh, would you give it a rest, Alan." I sighed, drumming my fingers on the table. "Archie's clearly woken us up a fair distance from home, so just tell us why and we can go back to bed for another 16 months." Alan bit the top of his lip and shot me a look of disgust. But really I could say whatever I liked to him. I was only one rank below him, and I knew the others agreed with most of what I said. Except Ryan, of course, who was a suck-up.

"Maybe you should pay your superiors a little more respect, sir." Ryan interrupted, right on cue.

"Take your own advice, mate." I said jokingly. "Just remember, we wear the ties, you wear the overalls." Ryan, thinking I was serious, almost got up from his chair, before steeling himself.

"Alright, alright." Alan said, trying to bring order to the group. "Let's get serious now, people. I'm sure you're all wondering why Archie's woken us up so far from Earth." A resounding 'Yes' rippled through the room. "Go on then, Archie," Grike continued. "Show us the message."


	2. II

**II**

A large screen on the back wall of the room suddenly flickered to life. A loading bar appeared, along with a short jingle that announced he monitor's startup. The screen then went entirely blue. Against the blue backdrop, some white text scrolled by, then some slightly larger text appeared centre-screen. It read:

 **INTERCEPTED TRANSMISSION**

 **Origin:** T-CLASS FREIGHT SHIP :JMC XH-12

 **Computer Ident:** XH-12 : 10TH GEN HOLOGRAMMATIC : 6000 SERIES

 **INITIATE MESSAGE PLAYBACK**

A loud beep then sounded from the monitor, before an audio message played, which was laced with static. It said:

"This is an SOS distress call from the mining ship XH-12. The crew… only… ship's cat, which was safely sealed in the hold when the… the ship… mechanoid also survived, Series 4000 Unit K-2X4B-523P, but sustained major damage as… an airlock. Message End.

Additional - Please send help… food supply has run out, and the cat… quite hungry."

The monitor beeped again, and Archie's voice announced "End of Transmission". Then the screen turned itself off. For a few minutes, nobody said anything. We all simply sat in silence and tried to understand the message. With the static blocking the audio so much throughout the message, it was hard to know what had actually been said. Eventually, Nathan broke the silence.

"What's a JMC ship doing this far out in the first place?" He asked. It did seem strange for the XH-12 to be out here in deep space. After all, it wasn't built for extrasolar travel. Just planet-to-planet and planet-to-moon journeys, generally speaking.

"Not a clue." Alan replied. "That's what we need to find out. Could be adrift, or on an erroneous course."

"Didn't Archie say the ship's computer was a 10th Gen Hologrammatic?" I asked.

Cara nodded. "I see what you're getting at." She said. "10th Gen Holly's don't exactly have a brilliant navigational capacity. Didn't another JMC ship disappear off the radar a few years back?"

"Anyway…" Alan announced, once again cutting our conversation short. "The best way to find out what's happened is to send over a support team. Jones, Holmes and Smith. Tomorrow at noon we'll be close enough for you to take Syracusia 1 over there and go aboard."

Leaning back in my chair, I looked around the table and saw that Nathan and Cara were also slightly frustrated by this announcement.

"Why us?" Nathan asked, to which Cara and I agreed.

"It's simple really," Alan explained. "Goddard and Nicholson are engineers. They don't have clearance to leave the ship until we reach Earth or an evacuation order's issued. As for me, I'm the Officer Commanding, and it's my duty to keep watch over the ship, no matter what."

"Bullshit," I announced, knowing that Alan's excuse was a blatant lie. "You only want to stay aboard because you're too scared to leave the ship."

"How dare you speak to a superior officer like that!" He snapped in response. "I am staying here because I'm the ship's commander, and that's the end of it, alright?!" His face was red with anger. But out here in the depths of space, he knew he couldn't lift a finger against me. It was my word against his, after all, and I had the rest of the crew to back me up.

Getting to my feet, I headed for the door to go back to my quarters. Everyone else got up to do the same, but before reaching the door, Alan stopped us.

"Wait." He said, smacking his hand against the table to get our attention. "One more thing. Archie says the mail room's overflowing with crap sent for you lot. Isn't that right, Archie?"

"Indeed it is, sir." Archie replied. "Over the last thirty-two months, whilst you have all been in hypersleep, the ship has received 27 postage capsules: 13 from Royal Mail of Earth, 7 from Direct Martian Mail, 5 from Lunar Postage Services and 2 from the Ganymedian Postal Department. The contents have already been sorted and will be distributed to your respective quarters shortly."

"Thanks Archie." Said Alan. "You hear that, everyone? Better to look through your post now than wait 'till we get back to Earth. So that's what you can all do for the rest of the day."

I groaned on the inside as we all pushed through the door and back downstairs to our quarters. We'd been woken up 16 months ahead of schedule and all we had to look forward to was opening the post. Oh, the joy of long-haul. To make matters worse, tomorrow me, Nathan and Cara were going to board a ship that we'd never even heard of to find out why there was seemingly no-one aboard. Oh, and the ship's computer had gone haywire. It just got better and better.

Reaching my quarters, I stepped in and saw that the hypersleep pod had retracted into the wall and a full-size single bed had risen from the ground. The printer beside my desk had also produced a few things. I went over to it and pulled out a set of blank timecards, the next three month's calendars, and a duties roster for the next fortnight.

"Oh, that's just great." I sighed, reading the first column of the roster. "I'm cooking tonight." I sighed and slumped down on my desk chair. I opened the drawer and stuffed the timecards in, then left the calendar and the roster to hang up later. That was when I remembered the post. I placed my head face down on the desk and groaned.

"Archie, send in the post." I mumbled. "I might as well get it over and done with."

"Of course, sir." Archie replied. A small hatch in the ceiling above me opened, and a long tube slid down until it was about a foot above the desk. Suddenly, hundreds and hundreds of letters began to fly out from the tube, at such force that the breeze made me wince. Over the noise of the torrent of mail, I heard Archie continue.

"You have 914 letters from 237 different sources. There are also 14 parcels for you in the mail room." He announced. Then suddenly, the flow of letters abruptly stopped, and the tube retracted into the ceiling.

'I shouldn't have gone for long-haul', I thought to myself. 'Earth to Pluto, that's what I should have done. I could have had a six-month journey, no hypersleep necessary, and best of all, been within satellite range. That way, all I'd have to do was log-on to a computer and check my emails, rather than sifting through a metric ton of letters. But no. I had to go long-haul. I had to take 8 years in deep space, didn't I?' Leaning back in my chair, I began to wonder about the XH-12. This ship which Archie had only discovered yesterday, which tomorrow I'd be going aboard for no other reason than to find out why it was out here. I wondered whether the crew were all dead, or if they'd all evacuated. I wondered if the ship was derelict, and if it was, was there anything worth salvaging?

As I wondered, I looked up at the wall monitor, upon which Archie had graciously displayed a clock. It was 9 o'clock already. Lunch was at noon, and took about half an hour. The same went for tea, which was at five, but I had to be in the kitchen at four to start making it. That gave me… five and a half hours to start on my post. I decided I'd go up to the mail room and get my parcels first. The letters could wait for now. As I got up to leave my quarters, I stopped before the mirror and gazed into it. My face was grey, I had huge bags under my eyes, and apparently I had a faulty hypersleep pod, because despite shaving before we went under nearly three years ago, my face was covered in stubble. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I broke away from the mirror, and left my room to go upstairs for my parcels.


	3. III

**III**

The mail room was truly a dismal one: small, dimly lit and poorly looked-after. As soon as the door opened a wall of brown-paper parcels fell out all over the place. Fourteen of these were mine; that much I knew. But which fourteen? I had no choice but to pick up and examine _every single one_. For some, this wasn't too difficult. The smallest were about the size of VHS tapes. I considered whether this might be because they _were_ VHS tapes. The largest, though, was over six feet high and a two feet wide, as well as several inches thick. The label was addressed to 'DSPSCV Archimedes', from 'Alpha Iota Systems'.

"Oh, I'll take that." A voice came from behind, almost making me jump out my skin. I turned around to see that Brad was now stood behind me. He nodded towards the parcel, gesturing me to pass it to him. "New pod for Science and Medical." He explained, as he took the package from me. It was incredibly heavy to me, but Brad lifted it with ease, and within a moment he had already reached the end of the corridor with the huge box. Turning back to the mass of brown boxes before me, I continued to pull at the labels until I'd recovered exactly fourteen that displayed my name. Then I felt irresponsible for leaving the other packages all over the floor, so I decided to pick them up. Whilst I was picking them up, I decided that I might as well sort them out a little. And whilst I was sorting them a little, I decided 'Hey; why not sort them a lot?'

Nearly twenty minutes had passed by the time I'd sorted everyone's packages and taken my own back down to my quarters. 'Well done, Matthew' I said to myself as I shut the door behind me and dumped the parcels on the floor. 'You just killed another twenty minutes of your life.' By the time I'd opened them all, another hour had passed. And it's not like they were anything to get excited about, either. Most of them were, in fact, videotapes, but they were all labeled as 'NEWS', and I wasn't prepared to sit through three years worth of news. Other boxes included a new pair of shoes, kindly sent to me by my mother, and a crate filled with nothing but tea bags, which in fairness I had asked a friend to send me just after leaving Earth because the tea bags provided onboard were shit.

After finishing on the parcels, I looked up at the clock. The time had reached 11:30, so I decided to head to the dining hall early for lunch. Stepping out of my quarters, I decided that first I ought to head around to Science and Medical to see if Brad had built the new pod yet. Long story short, he hadn't. He was still working on it when I walked in, as was Ryan. When I asked about Nathan, they told me that it was his turn in the kitchen.

"He's making pie and mash for dinner." Brad told me. "Not bad for out first meal in three years, eh?"

"Pie and mash?" I asked, shaking my head. "Dickhead. I was going to make that tonight."

A few minutes later, the two technicians decided to leave the rest of the pod for later, and the three of us went around to the dining hall, which was pretty oversized for such a small ship. There were enough seats for fifty people, but only enough hypersleep pods for six. Needless to say, even when the entirety of the crew had entered the room and sat down, it was still almost empty. Nathan had prepared a pretty decent meal of steak and kidney pie and mashed potatoes, along with tea (which of course I didn't drink). Even Alan paid his compliments to the chef.

"Wonderful meal, Nathan." He beamed, as he stuffed the last forkful of potato into his mouth.

"Thanks very much, sir." Nathan replied. The other crew members were always much more reluctant than myself to simply call him 'Alan'. "Glad you liked it. Think you can beat that tonight, Matthew?"

By about half past twelve, everybody had finished lunch, and we now we were all just chatting to one another as Nathan cleared away the last of the trays. I decided to use this opportunity to find out more about the ship that he, Cara and I would be going aboard tomorrow.

"So, Alan," I began, relaxing back into my seat as I spoke. "Tell us more about the XH-12."

"Sorry, Matthew," He shrugged. "Archie's already told you the whole story."

"Oh, come on Alan." I sighed. "You think I was born yesterday? We all know that Archie's built to automatically redact certain information from lower ranking crew members. What do you know about the ship that we don't?"

"Matthew, I assure you, there's nothing else you need to know about the XH-12." Alan insisted. "Now, I think it's time we all got back to work. Go and prepare for tomorrow, why don't you, Matt?"

Standing up from my chair, I left the dining hall, but not before staring Alan hard in the back of the head. Sometimes I just wanted to slap him so much. Heading down the corridor, I noticed Cara struggling outside her living quarters with a large box. I went over to see what was going on, and noticed that the box was filled with letters.  
"What's this, then?" I asked, taking the box from her and setting it down on the floor for a moment.

"Junk mail." She said, grinning. "Started sorting through yours yet?"

"Uh, no." I replied. "I was going to, but I opened all my parcels instead."

Cara chuckled, and leaned down to pick the box of letters back up from the floor. I walked with her as she headed around the corner towards the engine bay. That was where we stored most of our rubbish, what with the ship not having any waste disposal capsules on board.

"Get anything good, then?" She asked as we walked along.

"Just teabags." I replied. "I asked a friend to send me some."

"Nice one." She nodded. "The ones onboard are shit."

"Thank you!" I exclaimed. "I knew I wasn't the only one who hated them."

Reaching the door to the engine bay, Cara reached out and pulled it open. Then, we stepped through it into the loud, hot and filthy room. She walked over to a corner and tipped the box upside down on top of an already vast pile of rubbish. As she did this, I asked how she was feeling about being part of the support team tomorrow, to which she replied in much the same way as I'd expected. She said she didn't really want to, because she wasn't sure what to expect. But if the crew of the XH-12 could be in trouble, it was best if someone went over to help. I could agree with what she was saying, although I was still annoyed that Alan wasn't going aboard with us. As the commanding officer of the ship, he was supposed to set an example, yet he was literally so scared of just being in space that he refused to leave the ship. 'Some example', I thought to myself.

A few minutes later, and after disposing of her huge box of junk letters, Cara had gone back down the corridor to her quarters. I did the same, thinking I could probably now start sorting through my own letters. But when I did finally get back in, I only had another hour before I had to go back to the kitchen to start making the evening meal, so yet again I decided to just ignore them for the time being. Slumping down into my desk chair, I asked Archie to pull up a monitor with a VCR player, and inserted a VHS tape labeled 'NEWS – 30/03/2316-03/12/2316'. The next hour went by about as quickly as a horse-drawn carriage being pulled by a snail. But at least I could safely say I'd watched _some_ of the news now.

When the clock at last reached four in the afternoon, I turned off the monitor and headed to the kitchen. Since Nathan had already stolen my idea for lunch, I did _not_ make pie and mash. Instead, I made sausage and mash, which still didn't go down too well, as everybody complained they'd already had mash once today. I told them that out here in the middle of nowhere, I couldn't just pop down to the shops for some oven chips, and that they'd just have to deal with what they'd been given. That caused even more complaining, and I suddenly felt glad that I hadn't given anyone tea made with my own bags. 'Ungrateful swines', I thought to myself. 'It's not my fault Nathan stole my idea for lunch'.

The rest of the evening passed by quite swiftly. By the time everyone had eaten and I'd washed up all the trays, it was already seven. After a long period of gazing through the window of the observation deck, it was eight. Finally, another long period of gazing through the window, this time on the ship's bridge, brought the time up to nine. When I finally climbed into bed that night, the time was 9:30. And do you know what? I was shattered. The first day I'd been awake in three years, and I couldn't wait to go back to sleep again. Perhaps it was because I'd spent most of the day sorting through three years' worth of post, perhaps it was something to do with tomorrow's support mission to the XH-12. But that night, I slept like a light.


	4. IV

**IV**

The next morning I was awoken by the sound of an alarm originating from Archie's speaker grill in my room. The alarm beeped continuously for over a minute, but still I clutched at the bed covers and simply turned myself over. Eventually, the beeping stopped. I smiled as I huddled up comfortably against the warm mattress. Then, there was a klaxon, which almost deafened me as it blared through the room. I sat bolt upright, the smile wiped from my face, and shouted to Archie.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Archie, I'm trying to sleep." I snapped, and the klaxon suddenly stopped.

"With respect, sir," Archie replied calmly, "The time is already 1000 hours. Omicron Alpha Regulations dictate that no member of a ship's crew may remain asleep past the time of 1000 hours without a genuine medical reason."

Walking over to the wardrobe, I continued to converse with Archie. Although sometimes I hated the fact that the ship's computer interface was literally everywhere aboard, watching all of us constantly, sometimes I embraced it, as conversations with Archie were much more civilised than those held with the other crew members.

"Is 'can't be arsed' a genuine medical reason?" I joked, to which Archie replied that it wasn't, although I could report my condition to Science and Medical if I felt my work could be endangered by 'not being arsed'. See? Serious, as ever. Of course, I soon remembered why this morning Archie was particularly determined to wake me up by 10. Today was the day. The day that we sent a support team aboard the XH-12. Salvage, rescue, who knew? But today, we went aboard.

By the time I'd reached the Briefing Room, the time was already half past ten, and the room was empty. I quickly slotted my timecard into the machine, and rushed out to look for them. I soon found everyone on the bridge; Grike sat in a seat at a huge control panel, whilst Smith and Holmes stood next to a wall of buttons and switches, both of them frantically pressing and flicking in a seemingly random order. Goddard and Nicholson were not qualified to control the ship in any capacity, so the two of them just leaned against the bridge window, staring out into deep space. I approached Alan, who had a pretty annoyed look on his face. When he saw me heading towards him, he flicked a lever and stood up from the seat.

"And where the hell have you been?" He snapped, pushing me towards the chair. "You're supposed to be our navigational officer. So navigate." I gave him a disgusted look, then sat down and flicked down the same lever he had just pulled up. I was now in primary control of the DSPSCV Archimedes.

"Ok, I'm here now guys." I announced, adjusting the height of the chair. "Right. Holmes, do we have a radar lock-on?"

"Yes, we do." She replied, gazing up at a large computer monitor. "Port-side, sector 10."

"Smith, punch up Port-10." I ordered, fiddling with a dial on the side of my own monitor.

"Displaying Port-10 now." He assured me, before pressing a collection of buttons to his right. On my monitor, a radar appeared, and the section labeled Port-10 was enlarged to fill the screen. A white dot in the direct centre of the square confirmed it. That was the XH-12.

Thirty minutes later, we'd changed course, locked on to the XH-12, and were now within a close enough range to make visual contact. Goddard and Nicholson were the first to see the ship, because they'd spent the whole journey staring out of the window. When I looked up from my control panel and saw the ship myself, I was a little shocked by the size of it. The Jupiter Mining Corporation was famous for its huge, high-capacity ships, of course. But this was on a whole new level. It was… tiny. I mean, really tiny. The radar wasn't really enough to illustrate what the ship actually looked like, but it was feeble, to say the least. A single-decked blue box, with tracks and a fuselage that resembled a Chinook helicopter. There was nowhere for one of our Syracusia 1 capsules to dock, because the ship itself seemed only slightly bigger than the Syracusia 1.

"That's not a whole ship, surely?" Cara asked as the Archimedes drew closer to the XH-12. Then it all fell into place.

"Of course it isn't!" I exclaimed. "That's not the XH-12. It's one of the XH-12's landing craft." There were a few sounds of agreement throughout the room. The general consensus was that the craft was, in fact, not the XH-12 itself. But if that was the case, we had a problem. We couldn't dock the Syracusia.

"You know what this means, right?" I asked, turning around in my chair to face Cara and Nathan. "We're gonna have to walk over there." They sighed almost in unison, and I joined in.

"Well…" Nathan began, heading towards the door into the corridor, "Better suit up, then."

A little more than 15 minutes passed by the time the three of us had changed into our EVA suits. Like our uniforms underneath, they were black, with white detailing and Ashbridge Industries International badges dotted here and there. They weren't the most comfortable spacesuits ever made, but they'd do the job. Now, Cara and myself stood beside airlock A-1, waiting for Nathan to turn up.

"Nervous?" I asked, seeing a distressed look in Cara's eye.

"A little." She nodded. "I haven't spacewalked since I was aboard the SS Norman-Stanley. You?"

"Well…" I began, hesitant to admit that I was more than a tad concerned about what we might find aboard the XH-12's landing craft. "It's more the destination than the journey I'm worried about."

Just then, Nathan popped up behind us, an eager expression on his face. Although being the ship's Science and Medical Officer made him quite concerned about the safety risks involved in both the spacewalk and boarding the other ship, he was secretly quite excited by the mystery of the whole situation. He politely asked us to step aside, insistent on leading the way, and pushed a button on the airlock's interior door. The three of us walked through, and the door slid down behind us.

"Archie?" I called out once the door was safely sealed. "De-pressurize A-1."

"Affirmative, sir." Archie's voice replied over the speaker in the airlock. "De-pressurizing A-1." A small grate opened in the floor beneath us, and an incredibly loud noise erupted through the airlock as the air itself was sucked out of the tiny room.

It took about a minute before the airlock was fully drained of air, but when it was, the exterior door opened automatically. Nathan once again took the lead, and was the first to step out into the gaping maw of space, gripping a handle on the ship's exterior to support himself. I heard his voice buzz through the speaker inside my helmet.

"Ok, you two." He said slowly. "I can see the XH-12's landing craft just a couple of minutes ahead of our current position."

"Alan says our velocity should reach zero in about two minutes." I replied. "We might just undershoot."

"Shit. In that case, everyone turn on EVA Safe-Nav." He ordered. I pressed a button on the neck of my helmet to ensure I had. Shortly after that, the ship's velocity was just above zero. Being in the vacuum of space, the engines didn't actually 'grind to a halt', but for the purposes of this story, I'll say that they did. The ship's engines slowly ground to a halt.

'This is it', I thought to myself, seeing that the blue landing craft was now only about twenty metres away from where we'd stopped. To be fair, we'd made a pretty good distance judgment on the part of the Archimedes. We'd still need to take a little walk, though. After announcing that it was 'go-time', Nathan was the first to let go of the Archimedes. He pushed away from the ship with his hands and feet and drifted slowly towards the other craft. The lack of air resistance out here ensured that he didn't slow down until he smacked into the blue ship's side. He climbed along an exterior railing until he reached what appeared to be the only exterior door on the vessel. A button at it's side overrode the lock, and the door slid open.

"Right, you can come over now, guys," Nathan announced, from the safety of the airlock he was now in. Cara went next, pushing herself away from the Archimedes in much the same way that Nathan had. Finally, when my two fellow crew members had reached the other airlock, I pushed away from the ship, imagining the gap as the space between a train and the platform, so as to take my mind off the fact that it was actually a much greater distance. When I reached the airlock on the other ship, Nathan slid the door closed and initiated emergency pressurization. As we waited for the airlock to fill with air, I wondered what we'd find on the other side of the door. What big mystery could such a tiny ship hold? As the last of the air was pushed into the room, the door began to slide open. We were about to find out.


	5. V

**V**

The second the thick metal door grinded out of view into the floor beneath us, it became apparent that the craft was in a definitive state of disrepair. A strip light which half-hung from the ceiling flickered on and off, casting eerie shadows across the room. The furniture was either upturned or broken: chairs, tables and lockers, to name a few. Water dripped slowly from a slit in a pipe along the wall, but we could hear that somewhere else it was pouring out at an alarming rate. Nathan, who had so far been the most enthusiastic member of the team, was suddenly hesitant to step out of the airlock and into the ominous room. I didn't blame him. The place put all three of us on edge.

"Right, well… I'll try and establish radio contact," Cara said, pressing a button on the neck of her helmet. "Lieutenant Grike, can you hear us?" The radio buzzed with static for what seemed like minutes, but in truth it was only thirty seconds.

"Holmes, I hear you," came Alan's eventual reply. "What's going on over there?"

"Not much yet, sir." Nathan explained. "Establishing live camera feed now." He nodded to Cara and myself, and the three of us reached up to the cameras mounted on the top of our helmets. Switching them on, we waited for Alan to reply, telling us that he could see all three camera feeds. He did, although he did mention that the video quality wasn't particularly good. We had slightly more pressing matters to attend to though, so we decided to continue searching the ship regardless.

In retrospect, we should have taken the first room as a fair image for the rest of the ship. It was dark, desolate, and dysfunctional. Even so, we were still strangely surprised to find that the next room we entered was more or less equally unpleasant. It was the cockpit, and at first glance it was perfectly ordinary. Only two seats, similar lighting failures to the first room. But as Cara stepped forwards into the room, I saw her face fall.

"Oh, God," She said in a whisper. I stepped forwards to see what it was that had made her say this. She pointed towards one of the seats. A cold shiver went down my spine as I looked over and saw… a body.

A few seconds later, Nathan entered the cockpit behind us. I gestured towards the chair, which he confidently reached out to with one hand, and turned around slowly. Now I could see the body more clearly, I saw that it was that of a seemingly healthy human male. As the light overhead flickered briefly, I saw a deep red liquid covering the floor surrounding the chair. I knew at once that it was blood.

"Oh, fuck…" Nathan began, staring down in horror at the corpse. That was coming from a Science and Medical Officer, too, mind. "What the hell happened to him?" He pointed at the man's chest, which until now I had not taken any notice of. I realised then what had caused Nathan, a renowned doctor and professor of science, to react so strongly towards the body. There was a gaping hole in the man's chest, which went all the way through into his stomach. It seemed that it must have been a small hole at first, but a combination of stomach acid and his own blood had somehow managed to corrode the skin around it, causing the hole to collapse in on itself.

Stepping back in horror, I wondered what could have caused such a serious injury. A weapon? No. The hole would have gone all the way through. Suicide? No. Bleach or disinfectant would have made a much rougher wound. It was almost as if there had been something inside the man's stomach which had forced it's way out. But what?

"Grike, are you seeing this?" I eventually muttered, after being at a loss for words for several moments.

"I see it, Jones." He replied. "Search the rest of the ship. Maybe you can find out what killed him."

"I was afraid you might say that." I sighed, turning the radio back off.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry if I were you, Matt." Nathan assured me. "There's only one more room anyway."

After taking a quick blood sample, Nathan told us he was ready to go to the back of the ship and investigate the cargo bay. But no sooner than we had turned around, Cara saw that a locker against the rear wall of the cockpit was slightly ajar. Hesitantly, she placed a hand against the locker door, before looking over at me for some kind of approval. I nodded, to which she replied by nodding back. Then she gripped firmly onto the metal door and flung it wide open. Once again, my blood ran cold, as a second body spilled out of the locker and onto the floor. Another pool of blood surrounded the locker, but on closer inspection, it seemed this man had not died in the same way as the other. Parts of his skin were torn off, and there were deep teeth marks on his forehead.

"What in God's name happened here?" Cara exclaimed. But even as she said this, I was beginning to understand.

"Maybe something attacked the XH-12," I began. "Maybe these people were trying to escape it, but it got aboard somehow."

"So what are you saying?" Nathan asked, confused. "That it's some kind of alien?" When he put it like that, it sounded pretty stupid. But truthfully… yes. That was exactly what I was saying. Over the low buzzing of my radio, I could hear Goddard's voice. It sounded like he was arguing with Grike about something.

"Ok, Ok, I'll put you on," Grike snapped loudly. "Guys, Goddard here says he knows what might have attacked the XH-12."  
"That's right," Ryan announced, in a hushed, almost whispered tone. "Listen, Matt. You too, Nathan and Cara. Back when I was with Weyland-Yutani, they were rumored to be studying an organism known as the Xenomorph XX121. I never actually saw what one looked like; hell, I don't even know if it was true. But word gets around quickly, you know. I heard talk about an eight-foot armored monster, a perfect killing machine. Everything I've seen over your camera feed: the hole in that guy's chest, the teeth marks in that other's forehead…"

"What are you saying, Ryan?" I asked, unsure whether or not to believe this thoroughly untrustworthy gentleman.

"All I'm saying, Matt," He began, with genuine concern in his voice, "Is be careful. Like I said, I never found out if the rumors were true, and to be quite honest with you, I don't _want_ to find out."

"Thanks, Ryan." I replied, slightly touched that he was actually concerned for our safety. Then I assured him that we'd proceed with caution for the rest of the mission. A Xenomorph, though? It did seem like Ryan was simply describing a creature from the realms of fantasy.

Heading back through the landing craft's central room, we reached a door which we knew would lead into the cargo bay. The final room aboard the ship. What we'd find in there, we had no idea of. I pushed a button at the side of the door and a light flashed above it. Some text appeared on a screen above the door. It said 'WARNING: HULL BREACH'. I couldn't help but chuckle at the futility of it all. This door had automatically locked itself to protect the crew from a breach in the hull. Too bad that wasn't the only thing they needed protecting from. Fortunately, I knew how to override the mechanism. A concealed switch beneath the control panel released the auto-lock, and the door flung open. Big mistake.

It wasn't until after a chair smacked into the back of my EVA suit that I realised what I'd just done. A breach in the hull meant that the cargo bay was now a vacuum. This meant that all of the air in the room we were in was now being sucked out, along with all of the furniture. And us. I shouted to the others to grab onto something secure. Nathan clutched onto the doorframe, whilst Cara tightly gripped a bar that ran along the ceiling. I found a vent with a latticed grid over it, which I reached a hand through and held onto as tightly as I could. I gazed back into the cargo bay, and saw the source of the hull breach. A jagged vertical line had been carved into the bay's exterior wall, presumably with some kind of cutting torch, which had then opened up into a long crack, just wide enough for a person to fit through.

"I don't understand," Nathan shouted over his radio. "Why would someone deliberately cut through the hull of a ship?"

"No idea!" I shouted back. If we'd been aboard the actual XH-12 rather than some shitty landing craft with ultra-thin metal walls, maybe there wouldn't have been a breach in the hull. But we weren't. And there was. Soon, though, the last of the air had drained from the room, and the three of us were free to let go of whatever we were holding onto. As we drifted into the vacuum of the cargo bay, I told the others to stay away from the exterior wall. Like I said before, that gap was perfectly sized for any one of us to drift right through it if we weren't careful.

The cargo bay itself was, of course, completely empty, apart from a couple of huge boxes that wouldn't fit through the hole in the wall. If anyone had died in here, they were long gone, out into the depths of space. We were all but ready to leave the room, to leave the craft, and go back aboard the Archimedes. But when we turned to leave, Nathan noticed a hatch on the ceiling. Pulling himself up the wall towards the hatch, he heaved it open, and a few tools came flying out as the air drained from the chamber above. Then, he poked his head up through the hole.

"Hold on, guys." He said over the radio, hoisting himself up into the area above. "There's a mini-deck up here."


	6. VI

**VI**

"A mini-deck?" I repeated, watching as Cara followed Nathan into the hole above. "What's up there?"

"Just generators, by the looks of it," Nathan replied. "Come up and have a look." I looked around the room for a place on the wall where I could get a foothold, then clambered up towards the ceiling, reaching out to grab the hatch door, which now hung out on its hinges. Turning myself around, I reached through the hole in the ceiling, and grabbed onto the ledge. Hoisting myself up, I peered into the chamber, and saw that it was, as Nathan said, merely a generator house. As I pulled my legs up through the hole, the hatch below swung upwards and slammed itself shut. The sound of air rushing back into the room was music to my ears. The lights in this room were completely offline, so we could barely see our surroundings at all.

"Lights on, guys," I commanded, flicking the headlamp on my own helmet on. The others agreed, and did the same. Suddenly, the whole room was showered in bright white light, and we could see everything that the tiny chamber contained. What we did see was… unexpected, at best. Other words spring to mind: shocking, creepy and somewhat disgusting. But the room we now stood in did not seem to match the architecture of the rest of the craft. The walls, for instance, were coated in a thick, khaki-grey material, possibly organic. The ceiling was masked behind a similarly thick coating, and the generators themselves were concealed behind masses of a shiny, slimy liquid. I felt sick just looking at the place.

"What the fuck…" I heard Alan gasp over the radio. I looked to Cara and Nathan, who shared the same disgusted but confused expression as myself. Truthfully, this room alone made the rest of the ship seem completely unremarkable. The organic material on the wall, the slime-like substance over the generators, all of that was disturbing enough as it was. But that wasn't everything. What really confused me, and no doubt my fellow crewmates, who stood beside me in similar silence, were the cocoons at the far side of the chamber.

At first, none of us wanted to step towards the pod-like growths which sprouted up from the floor beside the far wall. Standing at about 3 feet tall, they appeared to be rooted to the ground like plants, but something about them seemed strangely less floral. They, like the coating of the walls around them, were made from a thick, khaki-grey resin, and upon approaching, we saw that they were sealed at the top in a cross. Nathan radioed the Archimedes, and asked if they could see what we were seeing. As he spoke, Cara stepped closer to one of the cocoons. Cautiously, I followed her, being careful not to slip on the squelchy floor.

"Alright, you two…" Nathan's voice buzzed over my radio, "Grike says he's going to put Goddard back on the radio now. Reckons he has more info for us." Before he'd even finished his sentence, Ryan's voice crackled through my left speaker.

"Yeah, it's me again," He said, with even clearer tension in his voice than before. "These cocoon… things that you've found? The camera footage isn't brilliant, but I think I know what they are. Th-" Suddenly, the broadcast failed.

"Ryan?" I asked, fiddling with a dial on the side of my helmet. By this point, I'd diverted my attention away from Cara, and was now looking over at Nathan, who shrugged his shoulders at the radio silence.

"Ryan?" I asked again, flicking my communication module off and back on. The oldest trick in the book, but I hoped that it would work. Sure enough, after the system quickly rebooted, Ryan's voice came through my radio once again.

"Sorry about that," Ryan said, frustrated. "Some sort of interference. Anyway, these pods that you've found?"

"Yes?" I replied, beginning to lose my patience. "For God's sake, Ryan, just tell us!"

"Ok, Ok!" He exclaimed, before taking a deep breath. "They're eggs."

Eggs? I asked myself over and over in my head. What sort of eggs? Could we scramble them, enjoy them with some sausage and bacon? What hatched out of them? And more worryingly, why were they three feet tall? As these thoughts continued to race through my mind, Ryan explained that the eggs were yet another product of our Xenomorph friend, as was the 'nest' around them. I couldn't really hear him, as I'd kind of zoned out and was now in deep thought. I managed to catch a few details, though, particularly the words 'extremely dangerous' and 'don't go near them'. It wasn't until I'd processed that last phrase in my mind that a horrifying realisation suddenly hit me.

Turning around almost instantaneously, I saw that Cara was now stood right beside one of the eggs. The top of the egg slowly began to open, with four 'petals' separating to reveal a soft interior. Cara was glued to the spot, as if mesmerised by the spectacle before her. Edging closer, I tried to speak to her over her radio, but she didn't answer. Instead, she gazed down happily into the pod in front of her.

"Cara?" I repeated over the radio, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Cara, we need to leave."

"Just look at it, Matthew…" She replied, dazed. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Well, I don't see it personally." I assured her. "Look, Cara. Ryan says these things are dangerous. We need to leave." But it was no use. She simply shrugged my hand away, and leaned closer to the opening atop the egg. Suddenly, I noticed that the surface of the egg had begun to ripple. I knew at once that something was about to happen.

"Matthew," Ryan whispered hesitantly over the radio, "Get her away from there." I watched as the egg stopped rippling. Then, a second later, it began to shake violently. I found myself frozen with fear as the egg shuddered.

"Matthew, NOW!" Ryan shouted, snapping me out of my daze. I dived towards Cara, forcing her to the ground as something erupted from the egg and flung itself towards her. Nathan bolted towards us to assist as I struggled with her on the floor. But it was too late. As my fellow crewmate writhed around in pain, Nathan turned her onto her back, revealing her face to the light. What I saw that day shocked me in more ways than one. Not just the sight itself, but the very concept was spine-chilling. For at that moment in time, Warrant Officer Cara Holmes lay lifeless on the ground, her reinforced EVA visor shattered, with a small, bony creature latched onto her head.

"We need to go." Nathan said, as calmly as he could muster.

"It killed her…" I whispered, shivering with fear.

"Matt, we need to go!" He repeated more sternly, lifting our colleague's body from the ground.

"Nathan… it killed her…" I said again, choking up as I spoke. I suppose had it been any other crew member, I wouldn't have been so deeply hurt. Of course, I would have mourned the death of Nathan or Brad, and even Alan or Ryan. But Cara? Dead? Nathan refused to acknowledge that she had even been killed. He simply dragged her over to the hatch above the cargo bay below, and pulled it open. Then he radioed the Archimedes, told Brad and Ryan to prepare a medpod.

A little less than five minutes later, Nathan and I had pulled Cara back downstairs and over to the airlock. As we stood waiting for the tiny chamber to de-pressurize, I looked down at Cara's face. The thing that had latched itself onto her was terrifying. Like a bony hand, it wrapped itself around her head, with it's long, spiny tail constricting her neck. Nathan, who up until now had remained silent, stuttered over his radio to me.

"Matt…" He began, slowly. "It's gonna be ok, Matt."

"Is it, Nathan?" I replied, still recovering from the shock of what had just happened. "Is it? Because it looks like it's gonna be the exact fucking opposite! We don't know what this thing is; we don't know what it's done to her. She could be dead for all we know!" Nathan fell silent again, once more refusing to acknowledge the fact that Cara was most likely dead.

A minute or so later, the airlock de-pressurization sequence was complete, and the external door slid open silently. The Archimedes had moved forwards by several metres since we'd left it, but this turned out to work in our favour, as we were now aligned with airlock A-2, which was right beside Science and Medical. The airlock was also open, and Brad and Ryan stood waiting at the other side to help us get Cara inside. Nathan stepped out into the open first, maintaining his grip on Cara the whole time. I followed his lead, and the two of us were soon safely across the gap, and back aboard our own vessel. As the external door slid shut behind us, an emergency pressurization sequence initiated, and within seconds the internal door was flung open.

Brad, Ryan and Matthew wasted no time now. The three of them went straight across the corridor and into Science and Medical, taking Cara's still limp body with them. Still in the airlock, I slumped to the ground, and closed my eyes, trying desperately to hold back the huge range of emotions that ran through my mind. Was Cara really dead? Was this 'Xenomorph' responsible? I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream. But instead, I just sat there, eyes closed, breathing deeply. I sighed, and wished for this all to end. For it all to be some horrific nightmare. Perhaps I was still in hypersleep, and a leak in the pod had caused me to hallucinate? I tried to offer up any explanation I could, from the sensible to the radical. But deep down, I knew that this was all real. This was all happening. And to be honest, things looked bleak.


	7. VII

**VII**

Eventually, I started to calm down. My breathing returned to normal, and I opened my eyes. The initial shock of the incident was over. But still, I struggled to believe that what had just happened was real. Some kind of creature had attacked the XH-12, and snuck aboard its escape craft with a few crew members. Ultimately, it killed them all, and laid eggs in the engine bay, one of which had 'hatched', and was now latched onto Cara's face. I remembered her expression when the thing had jumped out. She was almost in a trance, until that moment. Her face had turned instantly to a look of horror, a look which I myself now displayed, at the mere thought of what this creature had done to her. Was she dead? Was it hurting her? Once again, my head began to fill with questions.

After another minute or so, I got to my feet and stepped out into the corridor. Despite what had just happened, the ship had to maintain current operations, and I was no use to anyone laid on the floor of an airlock. Obviously, my first port of call was Science and Medical, which, as I discovered upon entering, was full. Ryan and Brad stood at the left side of the room, leaning against a wall, probably discussing recent events, given the circumstances. Alan stood opposite them, examining a large computer monitor on the right wall, which currently displayed information on heart-rate, breathing and cognitive activity. Nathan took centre stage, leaning over a medpod in the centre of the room. As I stepped closer, I saw that in the medpod lay Cara. I could tell that she was still breathing, which came as a huge relief, but as far as being conscious… well, she wasn't.

"Ah, Matthew," Nathan said as I approached the medpod. He was dressed in a black lab-coat now, complete with white apron and latex gloves. "Alright now?" I simply nodded, looking down at Cara, and more importantly, the thing on her face. It was almost like a giant insect, dirty beige-yellow in colour, and had a long, thick tail, which wrapped several times around its host's neck. It also had a number of bony limbs, almost reminiscent of human fingers, which gripped firmly onto the cheeks and jaw. The thing lay perfectly still, completely covering Cara's mouth, nose and eyes, and neither it nor her seemed to be aware of each other's presence.

"Look, I know you and Cara are close, mate," Nathan continued, removing a glove and placing a hand on my shoulder. "But you're not the only one who saw what happened. I was devastated, too. But-"

"I know, I know," I interrupted. "I should have stayed calm. I compromised our own safety by panicking, didn't I?"

"Don't worry about it, Matt," Nathan assured me, directing my attention to the monitor behind. "Look, her life signs are stable. Whatever this thing is, it hasn't killed her. If we can remove it, she'll be fine. Only problem is… you know what, why don't you ask Ryan? He's our resident Xenomorph expert at the moment." I was hesitant at first, given Ryan's tendency to be completely unlikable by even his own family, but if he could help me to understand what was going on, I was all ears.

Walking over to the left-hand side of the room where Ryan and Brad were stood, I noticed that the two of them were speaking to each other in hushed tones. Their conversation seemed to end quite abruptly when I arrived. I shrugged this off, and asked Brad if he wouldn't mind giving me a minute to talk to Ryan. He agreed, and wandered over to the medpod in the centre of the room. Once he was out of earshot, I seized the opportunity to ask Ryan to tell me everything he knew.

"Ok, Ryan," I began, already anticipating the man's stubborn attitude towards my questions. "I know you don't know a great deal about this… 'Xenomorph', but it's still a great deal more than the rest of us. So what is it?"

Ryan sighed, and crossed his arms over his front. "Well, you're right in saying I don't know much," He said. "Weyland-Yutani were very secretive about what went on behind closed doors. Still are. But from what I've heard, the thing that attacked the XH-12 was definitely a Xenomorph. That thing on Cara's face? That's one of them. A Facehugger."

"Facehugger?" I asked, glancing back over at Cara and her parasitic friend. "What will it do to her?"

"I'm not sure." Ryan replied, and I could tell by the look in his eye that he was serious. "But we can't get it off. Mad to try."

"How come?" I enquired, desperate for more information. Surely we could just pull out a bone saw and cut it off?

"It has a defense mechanism" He assured me. "When cut, it releases acid, strong enough to melt through 8 metres of solid concrete. By some accounts, it can go through thin sheets of diamond and lead." I was unsure whether to believe him or not. Such an acidic substance seemed impossible. Then again, I'd already seen enough of the impossible today. I decided it was best to believe what Ryan said, which ruled out cutting Cara's 'Facehugger' off. Perhaps it would eventually leave her; I just didn't know. But she was still alive, for now, at least, so I tried to stay optimistic.

For several minutes after my brief discussion with Ryan, the room was completely silent. Nobody said a word as Nathan continued to examine Cara, and the Facehugger that clung to her head so desperately. Eventually, he asked that we all leave him to concentrate, to which Alan agreed, reminding us that the ship was still adrift, and that we should all head to the bridge to get us back on course. Despite the fact that I wanted to stay and wait, at least until I knew that Cara was better, I understood that Nathan needed complete silence, so I went, along with Ryan, Brad and Alan, upstairs to the bridge.

Upon reaching the bridge, I immediately realised that without the help of Nathan and Cara, the responsibility of flying the ship lay with myself and Alan, since Ryan and Brad weren't qualified enough. Fortunately, Archie could provide some help, but we'd still struggle to control the ship with only half the required personnel.

"Ok," I said, sitting down in front of the drive computer. I flicked a couple of switches and the monitor flickered to life. "Radar's online now. Grike, can you find out how far we've drifted?"

"Working on it, now." Alan replied, punching a few buttons on the wall behind. "Here we go. Forward six, starboard twelve."

"Got it." I replied. "Archie, can you re-plot our course?"

"Certainly, sir. Plotting now." Archie announced in his usual indifferent tone. After a few seconds, he continued: "Course plotted. Destination: Dry Dock 17, Queen Elizabeth Ship Port, London, England, Earth. Continuing on a bearing of 357."

"Thanks, Archie." I said, as the new course loaded into the computer in front of me. "Goddard, Nicholson. Can you two head down to the engine bay for manual restart?" The two technicians agreed, and walked out of the room into the corridor.

A few minutes later, I heard Brad's voice over a speaker on the drive computer. He told me that he and Ryan had initiated the engine reboot sequence, and all but one generator were now back online. As I waited by the computer for the last generator to boot up, I thought about how much easier this whole thing would have been if the Archimedes had reverse thrusters. I mean, really. It would have been a damn sight easier to slow down by flicking on some reverse thrusters than to completely shut down the engines and drift to a standstill. Easier to start moving again afterwards, too.

"Ok, that's it," Brad finally announced, as the 'Engine 4' light on the wall behind came on. "Generator 12's online now."

"Thanks for that, guys." I replied. "You can come back up now. Oh, while you're down there, check in on Smith and Holmes, would you?"

"Roger that." He agreed. And with that, the radio fell silent. I turned to Alan, and told him that the engines were back online, then, after a few checks, we both agreed that it was safe to let Archie take back control of the ship. It wasn't until then that I realised the time was nearly one in the afternoon, and we hadn't eaten yet. Since it was Cara's turn to cook, and she was a little preoccupied right now, I boldly agreed to take the responsibility of asking Brad to do it. Of course, in order to do that, we'd have to go back down to Science and Medical to get him, so we decided to go down there now.

As we walked down the stairway and into the corridor towards Science and Medical, I did something that I scarcely ever did: I had an actual conversation with Alan. Of course, all we really talked about was Cara, and more importantly, the thing on her face. But it was rare all the same for us to have such a discussion. Usually, our conversations consisted of Alan being a total prick, and me swearing at Alan for being a total prick, so it was somewhat a welcome change for us to speak sincerely. As we reached Science and Medical, though, our conversation reached an abrupt end. This was because, as we rounded the corner before the door into the lab, I stopped Alan mid-sentence.

"Wait, Alan." I whispered, urging him to speak with the same level of caution. "Can you hear that?"

"What?" He asked, looking around. Clearly, he thought I was referring to an artificial sound, like the low throbbing of the ship's engines, or the stuttered buzzing of the overhead lights. But I was listening to a different noise.

"Listen." I replied, pointing towards the door into the lab. Voices came from inside the room: Nathan's, Brad's, Ryan's. But soon, another voice entered the mix. A voice which I knew instantly. Not Nathan, not Brad, not Ryan. It was Cara.

"She's alright…" I whispered, but it became almost a shout at the end. "She's alright!" I repeated, bursting through the door into Science and Medical. Sure enough, sat up at the end of the medpod, looking as well as ever, was Cara. The others were all stood around her, talking, asking if she was feeling alright. She looked over at me as they continued to chatter, and smiled. A huge feeling of relief encompassed me, and I smiled back. I could hardly believe that she was even alive, let alone well and able. But all the while, something didn't feel right about this whole thing. I continued to have my doubts as I walked further into the room, but I decided to push them aside for later.

As I approached the medpod, Cara stood up, clutching her side slightly, but otherwise quite well. I hugged her, which wasn't too abnormal under the circumstances. When I asked how she was, she said she was 'sick of hearing that question'. I refrained from asking her what she could remember; what she'd seen and what she'd heard. That could wait until later. For now, I was just glad she was Ok. Something still bothered me, though. Then, I realised what it was. I turned around to Nathan, and asked him about what had happened to the Facehugger.

"Oh, it jumped off," He said, shrugging. "Just loosened its grip and pushed itself onto the floor. It died a minute or so later."

"And what about Cara?" I asked. "I mean, did it do anything to her?"

"Nothing that I can see." He replied. "I've run an X-Ray and a CT scan, but she seems fine now." I had to admit, Nathan was right. Cara did seem absolutely fine now. No trace whatsoever of any kind of injury. Maybe this was the end of this whole ordeal, and we could go back into hypersleep tonight. Maybe we could put this entire incident behind us.

Or maybe not.


	8. VIII

**VIII**

After talking to Nathan, I decided to go with his better judgment. He was a doctor, after all. Anyway, I realised it was best to assume that Cara was alright, so I went back over to the centre of the room, where she still sat, and asked if she was feeling hungry. She said yes, and Brad, as previously discussed, agreed that he would make lunch for her and the rest of the crew. In the meantime, we were all allowed to go back to our quarters for half an hour. Before we left though, Nathan told us all to wait, and that he had something for us. He then went around the room and handed each of us a four-page blue booklet.

"What's this, homework?" I asked, looking down at the coloured paper.

"Hilarious, Matt." He replied, not amused. "You all know full well that after hypersleep, all crew members must take a test to ensure that their mental wellbeing and intellectual capacity has not decreased, as well as to establish that there has been no significant loss of memory, in accordance with-"

"-Omicron Alpha Regulations." We all said in unison. The amount of times we'd all been into hypersleep, and the amount of times we'd all woken up and taken this test, was truly staggering. If they didn't change the questions every time, I'd have memorised all the answers by now. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, for that exact reason, in fact.

Looking at the clock above the door, I decided that I might as well do the paper now, in the half an hour before lunch. Peering around the room, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea. So, paper in hand, I headed out into the corridor, and walked around the corner to my living quarters. Stepping in, I went straight to my desk, which of course was still cluttered with letters. I simply pushed them aside onto the floor, and slapped the blue booklet down on the desktop. The front cover read 'MIKE : Knowledge, Intelligence and Mentality Examination', and had a box at the bottom for my name and rank. I pulled a pen out of my front pocket and wrote 'Matthew Harvey Aloysius Jones, SenNav.'

Turning over the page to the first set of questions, I knew at once that this test was going to be easy. For a start, the very first question was 'What is wrong with the title of this booklet?' Of course, it was that the words 'Knowledge, Intelligence and Mentality Examination' didn't spell MIKE. They spelled KIME. The next question was 'The Great War began on the 23rd October, 2077. When did it end?' Again, the answer was simple: it ended on that same day (two hours later, to be exact.) And so, the questions went on, each one as easy as the last. Some were general knowledge, like naming moons or giving dates, whilst others were mathematical and scientific equations. The mental stability questions were easy. Basically, you just have to write that you've never been compelled to kill anyone, and that you can't see a nuclear explosion in the last ink blot.

After about twenty minutes, I had reached the last question: 'What is the exact speed of light in a vacuum?' I scribbled down the answer, 299,792,458 metres per second, and closed the booklet. I then proceeded to leave the room, to take it back to Science and Medical for Nathan to have a look at. When I arrived, I saw that nobody else had yet handed in their own paper.

"Done already, Matt?" He asked as I placed the paper on his desk. "Not rushed, I hope."

"No, not rushed." I replied. "Just piss-easy."

"Well, it's not a question of difficulty, Matthew," He assured me, placing the booklet in his drawer. "It's a question of whether or not hypersleep has had an effect on your IQ, memory, or sanity."

As Nathan and I continued to discuss the necessity, and indeed the validity, of the hypersleep test, we were interrupted by Archie's voice, telling us that lunch was ready. And only an hour and a half late, mind you. I waited for Nathan to log out of his computer, and the two of us headed over to the dining hall, where Bradley was currently serving up pasta Bolognese, with a side of garlic bread. Alan, Ryan and Cara were all already sat down, the latter of whom now looked as cheery as ever before. Nathan and I sat opposite them, leaving a space on the end of the row for Brad, who was still bustling about with trays and cutlery. Once the last tray of Bolognese had been handed out, he sat down with his own meal, and we began to eat.

No sooner than I'd bitten into a forkful of Brad's meal, the table became abuzz with conversation. Nathan and Cara spoke about how she was feeling, and about this morning's mission in general. Ryan and Brad spoke about ship maintenance, mainly whose turn it was to perform ventilation checks. And Alan and me? We simply discussed how great Brad's Bolognese was. Soon, the dialogue shifted, and I found myself talking to Brad himself, about a magazine subscription that he'd forgotten to renew before leaving Earth. Then I chatted to Nathan about the recent election on Enceladus, one of the many moons that he'd lived on over the years. Eventually, I'd conversed with everyone at the table, even Ryan, briefly.

"…and _that_ is why it's impossible to deny that the chicken came before the egg." Nathan finished, concluding what I considered to be a very convincing argument, and a definitive answer to the age-old question.  
"Well, I'm convinced," I said, leaning back in my chair as I swallowed my last forkful of pasta.

"Me too," Alan agreed, "I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't heard everything that you've just said."

"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't miss that conversation." Brad said, standing up from his seat. Then he asked us if we were all finished, and began to stack up our empty trays to take away into the kitchen.

I realised at this point that Cara hadn't really said much for the last few minutes. I looked over at her and saw that she leaned back in her chair, seemingly exhausted. Her face was a little paler than usual and her breathing was deeper than normal.

"You alright, Cara?" I asked, moving over to the seat next to hers. "You haven't said much."

"To tell you the truth, Matt, I'm feeling a bit sick." She replied. "I didn't want to say anything to Brad, in case he thought I was criticising his cooking."

"Don't be ridiculous," I chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure he'd have understood." She smiled weakly, but I could see that she was in some sort of pain. I told her not to worry, and that I'd cover her duties for the rest of the day if she wanted to go back to her quarters, but she insisted that she was fine.

A few moments later, Brad came back into the room, regrettably empty-handed. He told us all that he was very sorry, but he hadn't had time to make dessert. I stood up, and walked closer to where he stood, so as to speak to him privately.

"That might be for the best." I said quietly, nodding discretely in Cara's direction.

"Ah, bit under the weather, is she?" He replied. "Understandable, given what she's been through today." I agreed, and looked over at a still quite pale-looking Cara. As I watched, her face suddenly turned red, and she began to clutch at her stomach. Everyone's attention was immediately directed towards her as she let out a gasp of pain.

"Jesus Christ!" Nathan shouted, rushing over as Cara lurched forward in her seat. "Cara? Are you alright, can you hear me?"

"Smith, what's going on?" Alan asked, worried.

"I don't know!" He replied, trying to hold Cara down as she shook in her seat. Her entire body had now stiffened up, and her face became redder still. Suddenly, she lurched forwards again, this time knocking Nathan back, and slumped onto the floor.

I continued to stare in disbelief as she writhed in agony on the ground.

"What the fuck is that?" Brad shouted, pointing towards Cara's stomach. I looked down and saw that a large bulge had appeared under her shirt, as if something was pushing its way out from the inside. Then, I heard an ungodly tearing of skin and muscle. I forced myself to look away, but I simply couldn't. Blood shot into the air as a huge, yellowish larva erupted from Cara's stomach. Before anyone had time to react, it shot out of the room, off into the corridor behind us. But that wasn't the end of it. As I looked back at Cara's now motionless body, I saw a second, smaller larva slump out onto the floor, before wriggling away at less than half the speed of the first. Alas, it was still too fast to be chased, though.

"Oh, God." Alan said, cupping a hand over his mouth at the spectacle before us. The very sight induced terrific nausea within me. I was still trying to process what had just happened. One moment, she'd been fine. The next? Well, that mental image spoke for itself. But it couldn't be so. Nathan said he'd run an X-Ray _and_ a CT scan, and found nothing out of the ordinary. Evidently, he was wrong. And I knew at once what this meant. It meant that the Facehugger really _had_ done something to her. It had laid an egg, birthed an embryo (or two in this case). It meant that the safety of the entire ship could now be at risk.


	9. IX

**IX**

For several moments, no-one said a word. We simply stared in disbelief at the scene which had just unfolded before our eyes. Cara was dead, and this time, there was no denying it. Blood still seeped from the hole in her stomach, and I suddenly remembered that this was how we'd found one of the crew of the XH-12. This was how he had died. And the thing that came out of him had obviously killed the others. Now that Cara had suffered the same fate, it seemed inevitable that those things would somehow kill _every single_ one of us. But how? They were so small, almost an insignificant threat. Could two tiny creatures really take the lives of five adult men? I just didn't know. I didn't _want_ to know. But I had a feeling I soon would.

"O-Ok…" Nathan eventually said, breaking the silence in the room. "Let's all just remain calm."

"Calm?" Brad replied, almost shouting. "Calm?! Are you blind, Nathan? Look at her, she's… she's dead."

"Smith's right, Nicholson," Alan nodded, although I could tell by the look on his face that he was more terrified than the rest of us combined. "Panicking's only going to make things worse. Smith, do you have any idea what just happened?"

"I'm… not sure." He said, honestly. "The scans didn't show anything, I swear." I trusted Nathan, and knew that he wouldn't have lied about something like this. But that would mean that the larvae really didn't show up on the X-Ray or the CT scan.

"So what do we do now?" I asked, realising that we were becoming tangential. Whatever had happened to Cara, it had happened now, and it was too late to do anything about it. All we could do from this point forward was protect ourselves.

"I think we have some weapons in storage." Alan replied, looking down at the ground.

"Wait…" I began, glaring over at him. "Weapons? Are you serious? And you didn't think to tell us this before we went aboard that other fucking craft in the first place?!"

"For your information, Jones, I didn't know what you'd find over there!" He shouted, turning his gaze towards me.

Suddenly, everybody turned on each other, and the conversation soon descended into childish insults and a lot of swearing. Within moments, we were at each others throats, the panic getting to us more than anything. I heard every obscenity under the sun, and more, within those next few minutes. Eventually, I decided I'd had enough. Stepping back from the group, who continued to curse and argue, I clambered onto the table behind me. Stabilising myself on the slippery surface, I faced the four men and shouted at the top of my lungs: "Everybody SHUT UP!"

The group fell silent in an instant. After a few moments, Alan said that he would take us to the cargo hold where we could gather together what little weaponry we had. Despite the fact that I was still annoyed with him, for not telling us earlier that we even had any weapons, I knew that we were already losing time, so I decided to just let it go. Before we left, though, we had to determine what to do with Cara's body. Nathan felt it best that we preserve her body in hypersleep, so that we could give her a proper ceremony when (or indeed if) we got back to Earth. Alan detailed myself and Nathan to undertake the task of carrying her over to Science and Medical, whilst he, Brad and Ryan went for the weapons. We agreed, and as the three of them left the room, Nathan and I walked over to where Cara still lay, readying ourselves to lift her up.

Ten minutes or so later, Nathan and I had reached Science and Medical. In my arms, I held Cara's legs, which were now limp and cold. Nathan held Cara's own arms, although they too were lifeless and grey. Upon entering the room, we carried her straight over to the still-open medpod in the centre of the room. I ensured she was laid comfortably, even in death, whilst Nathan prepared the pod for hypersleep. As the glass encompassed her, I wondered to myself: Could we really survive this? Could we get Cara back to Earth, and give her the funeral that she deserved? After the scenes I'd witnessed aboard the XH-12's craft earlier today, I wasn't sure. But we had to try. We had to survive this. For Cara's sake.

By the time we'd gone upstairs to rendezvous with the others in the briefing room, another fifteen minutes had passed. Alan, Ryan and Brad were already there, with a bundle of weapons sprawled out across the desk. There were small, black pistols, huge, chunky energy blasters, and sleek, but deadly assault rifles.

"Will any of these work?" I asked, picking up a long shotgun and examining it carefully.

"Against those little things?" Alan replied. "Not a problem. However…"

"However?" Nathan asked, leaning against a wall with his arms folded.

"Ryan's been telling us more about these Xenomorphs." Alan explained. "Apparently they can reach full maturity within hours. And once they're fully grown, these weapons might not make a dint."

Ryan stood up at this point, and walked over to the desk. He grabbed one of the largest weapons there, a huge energy-burst cannon, and headed for the door which lead out into the corridor.

"So why are we still here talking?" He said, cocking the weapon for effect. "Let's kill them before it's too late." Alan agreed, and told us all to take what we could carry, before warranting a full-scale search of the entire ship. He too was determined to find these things and kill them, before they grew up and killed _us_. For now, we decided to travel as a group, since we truthfully had no idea what we might encounter. Our first port of call was the bridge.

Upon entering the bridge, it became abundantly clear that something had indeed been in here since we had. A few papers on a desk by the wall had been knocked onto the floor, and a computer mouse dangled from a table by the monitor on which it was placed. But there was no sign that anything was currently hiding within the room. We turned to leave, and proceeded along the corridor to the server room. And so it continued, for the next three hours, in fact. We went around the ship, checking every room twice: The bridge, the briefing room, all of our living quarters, the cargo bay, the kitchen, the dining hall, and even Archie's control hub. In all of them, nothing. Eventually, the only place left to search was the engine deck.

"This is the only place left, guys." Alan said, pressing the button that controlled the door into the room.

"They must be in here." Nathan agreed, as the door slowly slid open. Immediately, the sweltering heat and noise of the engines filled the air. We stepped in, and were bathed in red light. This was because the only sources of light in the room were a few red cage lamps. The dimly-lit room made it difficult to see if anything was lurking in the shadows by the engines. But I thought back again to the XH-12's escape craft. I remembered the nest of eggs in the engine bay, built close to the warmth of the throbbing generators. A gut feeling was telling me that this was where the larvae must have slunk off to. I didn't have to wait long for my suspicions to be confirmed.

"Guys, look." Brad whispered loudly, pointing over to one of the engines. I followed his finger, and saw that between the engine itself and the wall beside it was a large, dark mass. As I watched, it slowly began to move, pushing itself out from the shadows. The creature that I saw then, however fascinating it was, scared the wits out of me. It was tall, almost 8 feet in total, and completely black. It stood on two legs, and had two arms, much like a human. But perhaps the most intriguing feature of this monster was it's head. Almost two feet long, in the shape of a banana. In this darkness, it was impossible to distinguish any facial features, but I wasn't planning to stick around to learn more.

"Do we fire?" I whispered, as the creature slowly crept towards us, rearing it's head and sniffing the air around it.

"It wouldn't do anything." Ryan replied. "That's a fully grown Xenomorph, that is."

"So what do we do?" Nathan asked, although as we all edged back towards the door, the answer was increasingly obvious.

"Leg it." Alan commanded, running out into the corridor suddenly.

"Shit!" I shouted, seeing the creature respond to Alan's outburst. I quickly followed him down the corridor, with Ryan, Nathan and Brad hot on my tail. I was still trying to process the Xenomorph's appearance in my mind as it let out an ungodly noise behind us. Then, I heard the sound of rapid footsteps against the metal floor of the corridor. It was running, and apparently at more than twice the speed that we were.

Reaching the kitchen, Alan flung the door open, and myself, Nathan and Ryan bundled into the room. Before we even had time to process what was happening, Alan slammed the door shut, and engaged it's lockdown mechanism. But things were far from over. Without warning, a scream of pure fear suddenly pierced the air around us. It came from the corridor, from outside the room. I looked around desperately to check that everyone had made it into the kitchen.

That was when we realised that Brad was still outside.


	10. X

**X**

"Nicholson?" Alan called out, foolishly. He approached the door, and pressed the locking release mechanism. The huge slab of metal slid open, allowing us to see out into the corridor. Both Bradley and the Xenomorph were now nowhere to be seen. I heard a low growling noise in the distance, as the creature retreated back to the engine bay, but no sound came from our fellow crew member. Of course, the worst was to be assumed.

"What happens now?" Alan asked, turning to Ryan, our Xenomorph-savvy technician.

"I don't know." He replied, leaning against the corridor's opposite wall. "Might use him for food, perhaps."

"If it got him." Nathan said optimistically. We all turned to him and gave him a disappointed look.

" _Alright_ …" He continued, "Just trying to make the most of a difficult situation."

I walked over to Nathan, and placed a hand on his shoulder, thanking him for at least trying to keep our spirits up. But in truth, the probability that Brad was still alive was exceedingly remote.

"So what can we do?" I asked, examining the energy-burst cannon I held in my shaking hands. "Ryan, you said these weapons wouldn't do anything? How are we supposed to kill it?"

"The cannons might work…" He replied, fiddling with a dial on the side of his own device. "If we set them to direct current, turn the voltage up to maximum, and remove the inhibitor muzzles."

"If we remove the safeguards on the guns, they could overcharge." Alan said, shaking his head. "We could kill ourselves."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir," Ryan asked sternly, "do you have a better idea?"

Alan looked down at his own cannon, and admitted that Ryan's suggestion could be the only way. It was then decided that we should continue to the search the ship, with all of our weapons' safety mechanisms disabled to ensure maximum damage. As before, we proceeded as a group, although given what had happened with Brad, we were no safer together than we were apart. Even so, there was a sense of security in the fact that if the Xenomorph did rear it's ugly head again, there was a 75% chance that it wouldn't attack _me_. I realised as I was thinking this just how quick people were to value their own lives over the lives of others, particularly in such… troubling circumstances. I also wondered whether the others were thinking the exact same thing about themselves; that they might have more chance of survival if the alien had a choice of victims.

As we continued to search the ship from top to bottom, the clock continued to tick onwards (Although of course all the clocks aboard were actually digital (apart from my watch (I got that on Praxidike in 2312 (Good times (Sorry – I'm getting very side-tracked now – I mean, quintuple brackets? Really?)!).).).). _Anyway_ , we searched the ship from top to bottom. Of course, the first place we checked was the engine bay, as that was where we'd found the Xenomorph the first time. Unfortunately, it had anticipated that we would revisit it's original spot, and so had moved on. We agreed that the next best place to search was the server room. Like the engine bay, it was a warm, dark room, which was seldom visited by anyone other than Ryan and Brad. Nevertheless, upon investigation of the server room, we found no trace of the creature.

"This is pointless." Ryan said, as we looked around the dingy little server bank in desperation. "If this thing doesn't want to be found, then there's not a cat in hell's chance we're going to find it."

"We have to try, Goddard." Alan demanded. "We can't just go back into hypersleep with a killer on the loose."

"Two killers, remember?" Nathan said, correcting him, although technically the second alien wasn't a killer _yet_ , unless, of course, you counted Cara.

"Maybe we should split up." I postulated, thinking aloud. "After all, sticking together didn't do us much good last time. Besides, they've got to be hiding somewhere. If we're traveling as one, they can just keep avoiding us."

Looking down at the floor, apparently lost in deep though, Alan eventually spoke.

"Jones is right," He said. "We'll cover more ground separately."

"Really?" I asked, surprised by the cowardly man's sudden change of tone.

"Now listen here, all of you." Alan frowned, stepping out of the server room and into the corridor. "I know that certain members of this crew may have me marked as some kind of a coward." A resounding 'yes' came from the three of us.

"But if the Archimedes is in danger, then I will defend her." He said proudly. I felt a newfound sense of respect for Alan in that moment. I knew it wouldn't last. But at least, then, it was decided. We would 'split up and look for clues'.

For the next half an hour, I found myself wandering the corridors alone. I searched meticulously for any signs of an alien life form's presence. As I walked, gun in hand, I reflected on our experience with the Xenomorph so far. It was hard to believe that it was just this morning that Cara, Nathan and myself had gone aboard the XH-12's shuttlecraft. Now, the former was dead, leaving the latter to search for the creature she had birthed. I was still trying to understand some of the minor details of the events that had unfolded earlier. For example, was it normal that the Facehugger had implanted _two_ embryos in Cara's stomach? Or were they of similar rarity to human twins? And why hadn't they appeared on any of Nathan's scans? The full-grown Xenomorph quite clearly had a bone structure, and indeed an exoskeleton-like shell, so the X-Ray should have returned a result. And a CT scanner was able to detect any form of living tissue, so there should have been a result there, too.

As I pondered the different explanations for these anomalies (each as unlikely as the last), I suddenly heard a noise. It was a low, scraping noise, like something being dragged along the metal floor of the ship. The noise originated from around a nearby corner. It was where the corridor reached a junction, opposite Archie's control hub, and leading towards the bridge. Readying my weapon, I slowly approached the corner. But I couldn't bring myself to go around it. What if it _was_ a Xenomorph? What if the energy-burst cannon wasn't strong enough to kill it? Even on maximum power, Ryan had seemed skeptical on whether it would have any effect. However, as I heard the scraping noise coming closer to my position, I knew that I'd soon have no choice. With a deep breath, I lifted the cannon, and forced myself around the corner. And sure enough, there in the corridor before me, stood an eight-foot, jet black Xenomorph.

"Say there!" I shouted. "Don't come any closer!" But the alien did not advance. It simply stood there, seemingly taken aback by my presence. I aimed my weapon towards it. It took a step back, apparently worried. I heard a faint whimper from the creature, as it held up a hand in front of it's face.

"Wait…" I said, slowly lowering my weapon. "Are you… scared?" The Xenomorph simply stepped even further away. Looking down at the energy-burst cannon in my hands, I tried to understand what was going on. I kneeled down, and set the weapon on the floor. Then, I got back up, and saw that the creature had moved a little closer.

"Can you understand me?" I asked, to which the alien replied by nodding it's up and down, very slowly.

"You're not going to hurt me?" I continued. The Xenomorph shook it's head. I nodded back, and heaved a deep sigh.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said confidently, although I still felt a little intimidated. It was hard to tell from the shape of the Xenomorph's face, but it seemed as though it was smiling, thanking me for sparing it's life. In the few moments of silence that then followed, I took the liberty of examining the creature more closely. I could see much more clearly in the bright light of the corridor. It had a long, spiny tail, several feet in length. Protruding from it's back were four or five bony spikes. And inside it's gaping jaws, there seemed to be a second, smaller mouth, in place of a tongue. I also realised that this wasn't the same Xenomorph that had attacked us earlier. There were very slight differences, particularly in height.

"You didn't take Brad, did you?" I eventually continued, understanding that if this creature really wanted to kill me, it would have done it by now. It simply shook it's head. I wondered if I was just imagining things at this point, but I found myself looking at the shape of the alien's body once more. It's waist was noticeably thinner than it's torso, and it's exterior ribcage was slightly swelled outwards. 'Call me crazy', I thought to myself. 'But this thing seems kind of like…'

"Are you…" I began, but found that I could not finish my question. Could this thing really hear me? Would it even understand my question? Still, curiosity got the best of me, and I asked anyway.

"Are you… a girl?"


	11. XI

**XI**

For a moment after asking the question, there was no reply from the creature. I was unsure whether an alien being like this would have any concept of gender. What was I even thinking? You don't just run up to a killer and ask it to confirm its sex! The whole scenario was increasingly bizarre. I was stood before an ungodly, unforgiving and unpredictable monstrosity, and yet here I was, asking it if it was female. Eventually, the Xenomorph became more confident, and even began to approach me slowly. I was still cautious, though, and stepped back when it got within a few feet of me.

"Are you a woman? Female?" I asked again, this time slightly more confidently. The Xenomorph looked down at its own body, feeling the shape with its long, black fingers. It seemed to look over at me, despite a distinct lack of discernable eyes.

"I'm a man." I said, pointing a finger towards myself. "You're not a man, are you?" The alien eventually shook its head, although that could have simply been an acknowledgment of the fact that it wasn't a _human_ , rather than the fact that it wasn't male. For now though, I took the answer as confirmation that the Xenomorph was indeed female.

As I continued to wonder about the improbability of the existence of the creature before me, I suddenly heard the sound of footsteps. Several of them, evidently from multiple sources. I knew at once that they belonged to Ryan, Alan and Nathan.

"Shit!" I snapped, looking towards the frightened Xenomorph which still stood before me. I fumbled around with my energy-burst cannon, picking it up from the ground and turning it to the highest voltage possible.

"So, I guess I'm supposed to shoot you now…" I said, looking down at the weapon in my hands. I aimed the barrel directly towards the creature's chest. She trembled as I readied the gun to shoot. And then…

"I… can't." I whispered, lowering the cannon slowly. The alien relaxed herself as I flicked on the weapon's safety catch.

"Look, you haven't done anything to hurt me," I said, hearing the footsteps of the other crew members draw closer. "So I'm not going to hurt you. But they will, if they see you." The Xenomorph nodded slowly, and began to back away. The footsteps were even louder now, and I heard Alan's voice as he shouted my name from behind.

"Run!" I said, in an uncertain half-shout. The alien turned around and ran off down the corridor just as the footsteps reached their climax. I turned, and saw the other three remaining crew members stood behind me, guns in hand.

"Jones?" Alan asked, peering down the corridor in the direction the Xenomorph had just run off in. "Everything alright?"

"Uh, yes. Sir." I replied, in a desperate attempt to conceal what had just happened.

"We heard you talking," Ryan announced. "Did you find one of them?"

"No, no." I continued, avoiding eye contact with my suspecting colleague. "I just, uh, talk to myself, occasionally." Ryan looked at me with one eyebrow slightly raised. If any of these three men could see past my lies, it was him. However, much to my relief, he eventually nodded, seeming to accept that my word was the truth.

"This is becoming hopeless." Nathan said, breaking the tension between myself and Ryan. "We've spent the last hour searching for two huge aliens on a ship that only has twenty rooms. These things are clearly hiding from us, and they're not going to show their faces again in a hurry."

"So what do you suggest, Smith?" Alan asked, shaking his head. "That we give up and wait until they come for us?"

"I'm suggesting, sir," Nathan replied coolly, "That we return to our vital duties, with every room in full lockdown, and carry our cannons with us at all times when moving between rooms. That way, the ship can run smoothly, and we'll be a lot safer."

"That's… actually not a bad idea, Smith." Alan agreed. "After all, these doors on lockdown are virtually indestructible." He walked over to the nearby mail room door, and smacked his hand against it to indicate its rigidity.

"Alright then, men," He continued, nodding as he looked down at his weapon. "From now on, we shall follow Smith's plan. Return to your duties and ensure that any room you enter is _locked down_ before leaving your weapon." I agreed that Nathan's suggestion was ideal, but Ryan took a little more convincing. He was adamant that if we let out guard down for even a second, the Xenomorphs would come for us and kill us. Even so, he soon realised that no-one was listening to him, and gave up trying to convince us. So it was decided. We would return to work, effective immediately.

Ten minutes had passed by the time I had proceeded downstairs into my living quarters. When I arrived, I discovered that Archie, efficient as always, had already printed me a new roster, with the ship's duties now distributed evenly among the ship's four remaining crew members. This seemed futile, given that the ship's population could drop down to three at any moment, if we weren't careful, but it would do for now. After all, none of us were really in a position to complain right now, were we? There was a nightmare-ish, murderous alien on board the ship, wasn't there? A few sacrifices would have to be made if we wanted to keep things running smoothly.

As I studied the new timetable, I thought about the female Xenomorph which had ambushed me in the corridor earlier. I wondered whether it could even be true. According to Ryan, the entire Xenomorph race existed for no other purpose than to kill and reproduce. So why would one of them, for no apparent reason, be… harmless? What benefit would the Xenomorph genus gain from a specimen which did not kill, or at least try to kill, other living creatures? In fact, the Xenomorph which I had encountered had even displayed a range of emotions. Surely a creature which was literally 'born to kill' would have no need for any emotion, except perhaps hatred? Questions continued to circle in my head.

After a while, I looked up at the clock, and realised that I had just spent the last fifteen minutes lost in deep thought. I wondered if there was any way that I could get some answers to my questions. Then, I realised that there _was_ a source of information on the Xenomorphs right here on this ship. Ryan. Of course, I couldn't ask him personally, because he was such an insufferable moron, for whom we all shared a mutual hatred. 'But he may have given someone else the information I need,' I thought to myself. That someone else was, of course, Nathan. Surely Ryan must have given Nathan at least some information on the creatures? How else could he have understood the Facehugger that had attacked Cara? I knew that the only way to know for sure how much Nathan knew was to ask him. So I decided to go and do just that.

Picking up the energy-burst cannon from beside my desk, I wandered over to the door and disengaged the lockdown mechanism. Stepping out into the corridor, I pointed the gun around, just in case anything had been alerted to my presence. Seeing that the coast was clear, I proceeded to slowly walk around the curved corridor towards Science and Medical. Inside, I would find Nathan, a conduit for knowledge between myself and Ryan. If anyone could truly help me understand these creatures more, it was Nathan. When I reached the door, I was reluctant to knock, worried that it might attract the attention a Xenomorph lurking nearby, but I realised that it was the only way to attract the attention of the human in the room behind it.

As I knocked on the cold, metal door, the sound rang out across the corridor. Solid steel, these things were, and this one was almost two inches thick, in order to create perfect quarantine within the medbay. My hand fell numb from knocking alone, but I still clung desperately to my gun as I stood in solitude, out in the baron corridor. Eventually, I heard a call from inside the room. It was Nathan's voice. I heard his footsteps as he approached the door, and flicked the lockdown mechanism into the 'off' position. The door slid into the floor below with an unpleasant grating noise, revealing the oddly cheery-looking Science and Medical Officer who had opened it. He did not speak to me as I walked into the dimly-lit room. Instead, he simply gestured towards a seat against the wall, which I went and sat down in.

"So, Matthew…" He eventually said, after locking the door securely behind me. "What brings you here?" He sat down at his desk, and fondled a huge bundle of paperwork. I wondered again whether this man could really provide the answers that I needed. Did he himself even know? I knew there was only one way to find out.

"Well, Nathan," I began, looking around the room awkwardly. "If you don't mind, I'd like to know a little bit more about these Xenomorphs."


	12. XII

**XII**

"What exactly is it you want to know?" Nathan asked, leaning back in his chair as he skimmed over a sheet of paper.

"Well, what are they, for a start?" I asked. "And what did they do to Cara?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you much, Matt," He replied, shaking his head. "Ryan's told us everything he knows, apparently."

"Anything's better than nothing." I told him, standing up and walking over to the hypersleep pod in which Cara's body now lay. "I… I just want to know what they did to her." Nathan sighed, and came over to stand by my side.

"I know it's frustrating," He said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "And I understand that you want answers. So if you really want to know everything… then I'll tell you everything."

"From what Ryan's told me, I've managed to establish this: the Xenomorph is a parasitic organism which reproduces through a complex chain of radically different stages. In some ways, it's almost as if there are two separate species involved in the Xenomorph life cycle. The first is the Facehugger. That's the thing that hatched from the egg on the XH-12's landing craft. What it did to Cara is a bit of a grey area. I _think_ that it implanted some kind of embryonic larvae into her stomach, which incubated over a short period of time. The information that Ryan gave me would suggest that Cara's 'twins' are _not_ a regular occurrence. Anyway, after impregnating its host, the Facehugger dies. That's when the second stage begins."

"That's the big one, isn't it?" I asked, interrupting Nathan's speech.

"Yes." He replied. "The second stage is the 'alien' itself. As the larva grows inside its host, it leeches DNA from them, replicating it and mixing it with its own. Hence, the fully-grown creatures are humanoid."

"So they're part human?" I enquired. Perhaps this could explain the strange behavior of the female Xenomorph.

"I wish," He said, chuckling slightly. "They may resemble humans in physical form, but as far as the mind goes, they couldn't be more different. Xenomorphs have only one intention, Matthew: to kill."

I had to bite my lip to refrain from contradicting Nathan at this point. If Xenomorphs existed for no other reason than to kill, why had the one I had encountered earlier not tried to hurt me? Why had she exhibited human emotion? I attempted to ask Nathan, without making any reference to my previous encounter, of course.

"But what if there are two?" I asked. "Will that cause any genetic differences between them?" 

"Funny you should say that, actually." He replied, heading back to his seat. "I think it's quite probable, in fact." He sat down, and turned his chair to face me, before continuing.

"If there were two larvae growing inside Cara, they would theoretically receive an equal amount of her DNA. Nevertheless, theories tend to fall apart when put to the test. It seems much more likely that one of the embryos received a greater quantity of human DNA than the other. As you say, the two specimens are, in all probability, genetically different. One of them would effectively be more… 'Human' than the other."

"And what does that entail?" I pressed, desperate to learn more about the 'human' Xenomorph I had seen earlier.

"Well, physically speaking, there'll probably be almost no difference." He explained, "Except, perhaps, a slightly thinner body, wider chest, stuff like that. Mentally, who knows? As I said, Ryan told me that very little research ever went on at Weyland-Yutani into the effects of multiple births from a single host. For all we know, the Xenomorph which took the major portion of Cara's DNA could display near human-level intelligence, and even basic emotions, such as fear or happiness. Mind you, it'd still no doubt be imprinted with the base Xenomorph instinct to kill."

Nathan continued to tell me more about the nature of the Xenomorph over the course of the next fifteen minutes or so. As he spoke, everything slowly began to fall into place. The Xenomorph attacking the XH-12, the Facehugger jumping at Cara. From the information he gave me, I had managed to piece almost everything together. Here's what I got:

The crew of the XH-12 had escaped aboard one of their landing craft after a Xenomorph attacked their ship. Unbeknownst to them, a stowaway was hiding inside one of their stomachs. The 'infected' crew member soon died, and his… 'Child' had run amok aboard the vessel. Eventually, it went on to kill all but one crew member, whilst simultaneously constructing a nest in the generator bay. In a last-ditch effort to eject the creature into space, the sole survivor had fired a chain-gun (a weapon which literally fired a chain of metal, much like a small bicycle chain, with such force that it could tear through thin sheets of steel) into the rear wall of the cargo bay. Unfortunately, whilst the Xenomorph was successfully disposed of, the surviving crew member had also killed his/herself in the process. After that, the ship's computer sent out a distress signal.

An unknown amount of time later, Archie woke us all up from hypersleep after receiving the XH-12's distress call. We went aboard, found the dead crew (and of course, the Xenomorph's nest), and returned to the Archimedes with a lodger of our own. Now, Cara was dead, impregnated with twins by the Facehugger that had attacked her. One twin had gone on to kill Brad, or so we assumed. The other? She'd inherited more of Cara's DNA than expected. She was more… human. According to Nathan, this would make no difference when it came down to base instincts. But I wasn't so sure. If the Xenomorph I'd encountered earlier was really a killer, it _would_ have killed me. Simple as that. Anyway, all that aside, the situation now made infinitely more sense than it had just half an hour ago. Except for one thing…

"Nathan?" I asked, remembering the biggest unsolved piece of the puzzle. "There is something I still don't understand. Why didn't the larvae in Cara's stomach show up on any of the scans you performed?"

"I'm glad you asked." Nathan replied, getting up and walking over to a large printer on the opposite side of the room. He reached into the tray and pulled out two pieces of paper, which he then handed to me.

"What's this?" I asked, puzzled.

"See for yourself." He told me, before retreating back to his desk.

Looking down at the two prints in my hand, I was shocked by what I saw. The first was an X-Ray scan of Cara's torso. It showed a collection of small bones in her stomach, arranged similarly to the bones of her own ribcage, but twofold. I could hardly believe it. I looked at the second print, a CT scan of her digestive system. Sure enough, the image showed two worm-like objects nestled together in her stomach. 'What the hell…' I thought to myself as I stared in disbelief at the images.

"These came out when I asked Archie to re-print Cara's scans." Nathan explained, pulling the prints from my hands.

"They're not blank." I said, realising that I was stating the obvious. Nathan simply nodded.

"The original prints weren't even Cara's," He continued, placing the sheets in his desk drawer. "They were from a male."

"Who?" I asked, leaning against the wall with my arms folded.

"I don't know." Nathan replied. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was telling the truth. "But someone's gone to a whole lot of trouble to try and cover this whole thing up."

"You think it was sabotage?" I continued. Could it be? Could someone aboard have been trying to keep these things a secret?

"I _know_ it was sabotage." He said sternly. "Look, Matt, Archie wouldn't lie to us. He can't. It goes against his core programming. The only explanation is that someone ordered him to replace the feed for the X-Ray and CT scanners."

I looked down at the ground, lost in deep thought at Nathan's words. Who would do something like this? Replace the feed for the X-Ray and CT scanners; try to cover up Cara's condition? And why? For now, that mystery remained unsolved. But that wasn't important at this moment in time. I suddenly remembered the cause for my conversation with Nathan in the first place. To find out if, and how, a female Xenomorph (who displayed human emotion) could possibly exist. And now I knew.


	13. XIII

**XIII**

*NOTE – Hi everyone, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and I'm here today to bring you another chapter of 'Xena'. It's been a while since I've spoken to you in this fashion, mostly because I've been hammering through the chapters over the last few weeks. This weekend, though, I've had a little more time, so here I am talking to you now, and I'm pleased to announce that the statistics for last month are in. Only twenty-eight days after the first chapter was published, Xena has already totaled 4,063 views and 1,079 visitors. That's my highest month on record by a longshot! So, I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who has read the story so far, and to everyone who has given me advice along the way. Anyway, here is chapter thirteen, and I'm sorry, but it's filler again (Get used to it!) So, read on, and as always, enjoy. It's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

With the knowledge I required now in my possession, I got up to leave the room, and go back to my quarters before dinner.

"Oh, Matthew," Nathan began as I was about to open the door. "Before you go, I've got the results from your hypersleep test. 96%. Great score, mate."

"Thanks." I said, feigning interest. Honestly, the hypersleep test was the last thing on my mind right now.

"Yeah, it was almost perfect, actually," He continued, handing me my fully marked paper. "Only thing that let you down was Question 13: Name three Jovian moons whose names begin with 'C'. You put 'Callisto, Carpo and Clitheroe."

"Well, what's wrong with that?" I said, flicking through the booklet. Nathan sighed and shook his head from side to side.

"Clitheroe, for your information, is a small town in the Northwest of England." He explained.

"Oh, I've been there!" I exclaimed, thinking back. Suddenly, I found myself reminiscing. I remembered good old England: good old Earth. Back before I worked for Ashbridge Industries. And now that Nathan mentioned it, I did seem to remember the sleepy town of Clitheroe.

"I know you have," Nathan said, interrupting my nostalgic thoughts. "I used to live there. You came over for Jane's thirtieth, remember?"

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" I nodded. "I'm sure there's a moon called Clitheroe, though."

"I'm guessing the name you were looking for is Callirhoe," He replied, correcting my mistake. "Other acceptable answers were Carme, Chaldene and Cyllene. Other than that, you got full marks. Well done."

Looking down at the incorrect question, I folded the booklet up and tucked it under my arm. I thanked Nathan for taking the time to mark it, and he assured me as I left that one incorrect answer was not enough to prove that hypersleep caused memory loss. In fact, he remarked that "If there was anything to worry about, we'd know about it by now." Anyway, paper in one hand, gun in the other, I walked out of the room, and strolled around to my living quarters, ensuring that the door was securely locked as I went in. The time was now 3:14, giving me about two hours to kill before meal time rolled around.

Slumping into my desk chair, I picked up a random video tape from the pile of clutter before me. The one I found bore the words: 'News: 14/05/2317-27/08/2317'. I asked Archie to pull up a monitor so that I could watch it. He did, and I slid the chunky cassette into the VCR which was built in to the device. The screen flickered to life, displaying a string of binary code as the system booted up. When it finally had, I heard the familiar theme of the Dysomnian News Network, one of the most popular news broadcasters in the solar system. As I continued to watch, the female presenter began to announce the news.

"Good evening," She said, fondling a stack of papers on the desk in front of her, "It's Thursday the 14th of May, and you're watching the Dysomnian News Network. Tonight: Are dogs becoming extinct? As less and less dogs are being allowed aboard spacecraft due to quarantine concerns, the Endangered Species Committee of the Solar System have expressed concerns that the dog population on Earth is dwindling. The RSPCA of Great Britain announced that last year alone, they received over two million reports of dogs which had been left in their homes as their owners traveled overspace."

"In other news," The woman continued, putting the first piece of paper from the stack to one side, "The Montreal Technical Association revealed last week that they were in the process of adding up the results from their Name-a-Ship competition, which they hosted last November. The company says they received over 237,000 entries from members of the public, but the winning name, with over 16 million votes, came from a Navigational Officer Matthew Jones, of the United Kingdom, Earth."

"That's me!" I exclaimed, suddenly remembering that I had entered the competition. "That was my suggestion!"

"Jones' suggestion for the name of the ship was the Survey, Seeding, Study and Supply Ship 'Solomon-Salvador-Simpkins' of the Sovereign States of the Solar System. However, the MTA ruled that due to the length of this name, and it's completely alliterative nature, the entry should be disqualified." I sighed, burying my face in my hands. Even though I had originally intended to enter the competition as a joke, I was slightly upset that my suggestion had been disqualified. And after it won, too! The announcer then went on to say that the 4 _million_ dollarpound prize would go to the runner-up, from Fazestonia, Io.

"And finally," The announcer concluded, "Reports of rising tension between the Indo-Japanese colonies of Haumea and the Anglo-Mandarin settlements of Pluto confirm suspicions that the two minor planets could soon be at war. This news comes after a previous alliance between the factions fell apart when discussing ownership of the dwarf planet Makemake, which lies between the orbits of the two celestial bodies. The Anglo-Mandarin ambassador said that Pluto was 'prepared to take Makemake by force if necessary', however the Indo-Japanese ambassador declined to comment at this juncture."

After that, the woman said 'goodnight', and the outro theme played, before looping back immediately to the start of the next broadcast. I sighed, and leaned back in my chair. There was over three month's worth of broadcasts on this tape alone. But still, I sat there and watched that entire tape, to the very end, by which time it was almost 5:00. Mealtime. Whether we were safe to eat or not was questionable, particularly for Ryan, who was cooking that evening, and so would be floating between rooms with trays and plates and whatnot. Nevertheless, Alan had decided it was safe enough, and who was I to question the judgment of a man who had literally shit himself the first time he'd traveled overspace? Exactly, no-one.

Despite the wide variety of topical conversations that we could have partaken in during dinner, there was scarcely a word spoken. Everyone was tense, not just because we'd lost two crew members that day, but because none of us knew who was going to go next. As I snacked on the quite badly-cooked frozen pizza that Ryan had taken the liberty of preparing for us, I myself wondered who the Xenomorph's next victim could be. Nathan? Alan? _ME?_ The chances of all of us surviving the sixteen-month journey back to Earth were infinitesimally small. In fact, based on the current rate of death, we'd all be gone within two more days. This thought was chilling, but it continued to bother me for the rest of my meal.

Eventually, everyone had finished their meals, and Ryan cleared our trays away in silence. It wasn't until after this that Alan finally broke the gloomy atmosphere in the room. Well, I say _broke_ the gloomy atmosphere, but in truth, he merely _built_ upon it. He told us that it was going to take a lot more effort than we first thought to hunt these things down. Clearly, our current struggle was simply not enough. I asked if there were any more weapons in storage, any at all.  
"Actually…" He said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on the table, "There may be a couple of experimental weapons in safe storage."

"Perfect." I replied. "Let's use those."

"Wait a minute, Jones," Alan began, shaking his head. "Experimental weapons are… well, experimental. The danger involved in operating such weapons is astronomical."

"Oh, right. I didn't realise that we might be in danger(!)" I said sarcastically.

"Matthew's right, Alan." Nathan told his superior officer. It was a rare moment when a fellow crew member stood by my side against Alan. "No matter what we do, we're all in danger anyway. Might as well break out the experimental weapons."

After a few more minutes of pressing Alan, he eventually agreed to give us access to the experimental weapons in safe storage. He simply couldn't argue with our reasoning. Whether we took the weapons or not, we were in danger, but at least if we had them, we'd have a slightly higher chance of survival. So, once the clock had reached 5:30, and our mealtime was officially over, Alan escorted us upstairs, leading us to 'safe storage', a dingy little secret storage room behind the mail room. As we stood outside to cover him, he stepped into the room, which in truth was little more than a cupboard. A couple of minutes later, he came back out, laden with a handful of large and highly dangerous-looking weapons.

"Alright," He began, holding the weapons out for us to grab. "Do these tickle your fancy?"


	14. XIV

**XIV**

I was astonished by the weapons that Alan held before us. I mean, I know he said experimental, but these things were outright unbelievable. There was a gravity well device, capable of pulling things towards it, and then firing them away with great force. There was a neutron displacement beam emitter, which could reduce vast quantities of matter to little more than dust. And of course, there was an untested super-force chain gun, the effects of which I mentioned previously. Quite why such devastating weapons needed to be on board a seeding ship, I didn't know. Then again, perhaps they were for just such occasions as this. Whether they'd do any good, though, remained to be seen.

"Oh, that's just lovely, isn't it?" Alan sighed, looking down at his now-empty hands. Between myself, Nathan and Ryan, we'd taken all the experimental weapons, leaving nothing for our cowardly commander.

"What do we do now, sir?" Ryan asked, ignoring Alan's previous statement.

"Well, we track them down, don't we?" He replied, taking the energy-burst cannon from his back. "Unless you want to sleep with those things wandering around the ship all night?" We all shook our heads, then listened as Alan dictated the plan to us. Once more, we'd be traveling en masse, in order to keep each others backs, and after brief preparation, we were off.

Just as we had done earlier that afternoon, we searched the ship from top to bottom. The engine bay, the storage rooms, Science and Medical. The bridge, the kitchen, our quarters. But, just as before, we found nothing. No trace of Brad, the Xenomorphs, nothing. The silence of the group did give me time to reflect, though. As we walked, I found my mind drifting back to the female Xenomorph that I had encountered earlier. I wondered where _she_ was right now. Nathan had told me that she was a 'genetic anomaly'. That she may display human characteristics and emotions, but at the end of the day, she was a 'killer by instinct'. I wasn't convinced. She seemed so harmless when I found her. So… different.

Was it just my imagination? Was I anthropomorphising this creature through stress after losing Cara? It didn't make sense. Yet still, Nathan's words buzzed in my mind. ' _Killer by instinct_ '. Those weren't his exact words, but that was the basic gist of what he had said. Nevertheless, I could not bring myself to accept the fact that she was a brainless predator. She _had_ displayed human emotion, I knew she had, and not once did she try to come near me. Then again, I did have a weapon with me at the time, didn't I? But that couldn't have been the reason she had kept her distance. I put the gun down on the floor and I stepped away from it. But did she know that? 'Fuck!' I thought to myself, frustrated. 'It doesn't make sense…'

After another half an hour or so, we had searched every room aboard the ship. And I mean _every single_ one. There was simply no sign of any Xenomorph, pacifist or predator. The time was now almost eight, and I was becoming increasingly fed up of searching for nothing. At last, Alan turned to the group, and addressed us all in an annoyed tone.

"Well, guys," He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "We've lost them."

"So what do we do now?" Nathan asked, looking around nervously. "We can't sleep with those things on the loose."

"We might have to, Smith." He replied, although he too became nervous at the thought of sleeping under the circumstances.

"We can put our rooms on lockdown like before," I announced, after giving it some thought. "Even the vents, just in case. Archie can redirect the ducts to recycle the air within our quarters. It'll take a lot of power, but at least we'll be safe."

"Ryan?" Alan asked, turning to the technician of the group. "Can you organise that with Archie?"

"I think so, sir." He nodded, before heading off in the direction of Archie's control hub. Still sticking with the group mentality, we all followed him, and before long we had reached the stairwell to the upper floor. Archie's control hub was slap-bang in the centre of the ship, on this floor. From it, Archie controlled absolutely everything that went on onboard.

"Here we are." Ryan announced as we reached the corridor which led to the central hub. But no sooner than he'd taken one step down the corridor, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"What is it, Ryan?" Nathan asked, to which Ryan replied by telling him to shut up. We watched the tense man as he listened out carefully to his surroundings. Just then, he turned around, and pointed a finger towards the ship's bridge, the door to which was right behind us. I stepped slowly towards the door, and peered through the glass panel, which was at head height.

"What can you see?" Nathan asked, in a much more whispered tone this time. As if he needed to ask.

The Xenomorph was crouched behind a desk in the vast, brightly-lit room. Only the end of it's long head was visible over the tabletop. It appeared to be in possession of something, but it wasn't clear what. I watched as it crept between desks, knocking over papers as it went. I felt myself gulp as I looked on in fear. Suddenly, my throat became clogged, and before I knew what was happening, a loud cough erupted from my mouth. My entire body tensed up as I smacked my hand over my mouth. But it was too late. The creatures' head instantly snapped in the direction of the door, and it began to move forwards.

"Shit!" I shouted aloud, turning to the group. They shared the same look of fear as the alien suddenly charged towards us.

Before anyone could question what was going on, the four of us had begun to bolt down the corridor towards Archie's control hub. That was our only chance of survival right now. Nothing, and I mean _nothing_ , could get through those doors on lockdown. The only question was: Could we reach it in time? We'd only gotten halfway down the corridor when the bridge doors behind us burst open. The Xenomorph let out a deafening screech, and I heard the inevitable sound of rapid footsteps.

"Fucking RUN!" I shouted, although we hadn't exactly been standing still up until this point. Ryan had finally reached Archie's control hub. He dived straight through the open door, with me and Nathan right on his tail, and flung the lockdown activation lever upwards. The doors slowly began to close, grinding along the floor to eventually meet each other in the middle. These were the only doors aboard the ship that shut horizontally rather than vertically, which gave Alan precious time to squeeze through the door as it closed. He sprinted through the opening with little more than a foot of space left, but suddenly began to scream in pain as something ragged him back towards the door.

"Jesus Christ, HELP!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. I saw that the Xenomorph had managed to force it's entire head through the door, and Alan's arm was plunged deep into the creatures mouth. He writhed in pain as the alien shook it's head from side to side, attempting to rag the man's arm from it's socket.

"Somebody fucking help me!" He yelled, his face reddening and tears welling in his eyes. Saliva and blood began to stream from the alien's mouth as it continued to pull at Alan's arm. His screams continued as he winced in pain. Nobody knew what to say or do. How could we help? Then suddenly, I realised.

I looked down at the weapon in my hand; the experimental chain gun. A standard chain gun was strong enough to tear through the hull of small shuttlecraft. Who knew what this thing was capable of? But I realised that if Alan wanted to live, we only had one choice. I fired up the enormous weapon, aiming it directly at his upper arm.

"Jones, don't you fucking dare!" He yelled, seeing what I was about to do.

"You want to live or not?!" I shouted back, over the noise of the gun as it 'span up'. I could hardly believe this man. Totally unreasonable, even in the face of death. No, this really was our only choice right now.

Steadying the chain gun as it began to heat up, I stepped back against the wall of the room. Alan's face was now so twisted with fear, I could barely look at him. The Xenomorph continued to pull at the muscles of his arm, blood seeping onto the cold metal floor. Finally, the gun reached full charge. Without any further hesitation, I pulled the trigger, and a chain of metal erupted from the end of the device. The whole thing was flung across the room in a spectacular fashion, before it inevitably made contact with Alan's arm. Somehow, he managed to scream even more loudly than before, and a look of horror covered the faces of everyone in the room as the chain sliced straight through his arm, bone and all, like butter.

No sooner than Alan had been separated from his doomed arm, the Xenomorph pulled back, taking the lost limb with it. The doors slammed shut as he slumped to the floor, crying and shaking all over. Blood still spurted from what remained of his upper arm. Nathan ran over to assist him, but I found myself frozen on the spot. It had suddenly dawned on me just how screwed we really were right now. First Cara, then Brad, and now Alan (well, a bit of Alan). I wondered whether the Xenomorph would have taken his arm off anyway, if I hadn't shot it off. The very idea that we stood little to no chance against this thing was terrifying. But not quite as terrifying as the events which had just unfolded before me.


	15. XV

**XV**

*NOTE – Ladies and gentlemen, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and today I'm bringing you the next chapter of 'Xena'. Now, if any of you have read any of my other stories, you'll know that Chapter 15 is the half-way point. If you haven't, I'll tell you now: Chapter 15 is the halfway point. I know, I know, you're probably thinking 'What? How can we be halfway through already? Why have the last eleven chapters taken place over the course of a single day? And where's the romance we were promised?' But don't worry guys! Everything you've been waiting for, and more, will be coming soon! So sit back, relax, read on and enjoy. It's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

"Matthew," Nathan said hastily, comforting a wincing Alan. "You've got to go after that thing."

"What?" I replied, astonished. "And what do you suppose I do when I find it?"

"Matthew, we can't lose it!" He snapped, gesturing for Ryan to come and give him a hand. "Me and Ryan'll get Alan to Science and Medical. You find out where the Xenomorph went. Before it comes for his other arm…"

"But what good can I do alone?" I asked, becoming angry because of the stress of the situation. "You saw what it did to-"

" _MATTHEW_!" Nathan shouted, with equal anger in his voice. "Now listen here. You may outrank me, but right now I am taking control of the situation, now _GO_!" His voice was raised so much at the end that my only reply was a meager nod. Readying my weapon, I stepped over to the door, and released the lockdown mechanism. Peering out into the corridor, I saw that the coast was clear, at least for now. I turned back to Nathan, Ryan and Alan, wishing them the best of luck. Then, I dashed out into the corridor, sprinting after the creature.

For a few minutes, I bolted around the ship at great speed, holding my gun ready for what I might find. The sounds of the Xenomorph growling in the distance provided my direction. But by the time I'd gotten downstairs, I was already out of breath. Of course, the Xenomorph was now nowhere to be soon. Why was I even trying? This thing was capable of running way faster than I could ever hope to, so what hope did I have of catching up with it? Still, I pressed on, forcing myself to run at full pelt. The creature growled again, giving me another clue as to it's whereabouts. I saw a fork in the corridor ahead, where the ring of living quarters made up the central 'core' of the ship. Without even thinking, I pushed myself towards the right-hand fork, rounding the corner at full speed. Suddenly, I saw something which made me skid to a halt.

In the corridor before me, standing outside my own living quarters, no less, was a Xenomorph. I planted my feet firmly on the ground and almost tumbled head-over-heels as I tried to stop. The Xenomorph backed away as I approached. I knew why at once. It was the female creature, the one I had met in the corridor earlier. I dropped the enormously heavy chain gun on the floor, breathing deeply as I leaned forwards, hands on my knees. The alien simply looked at me, seemingly confused.

"Thank God it's just you…" I sighed, still gasping for breath. She smiled and came towards me a little more.

"Look, I don't know what you're doing lurking outside my quarters," I continued, peering over my shoulder to make sure nobody was listening, "But things are getting pretty serious right now. Alan just… lost his arm. To your brother."

A few moments passed in silence as my breathing finally returned to normal. Soon, I slumped to the floor, head buried in my hands, only now fully realising what had just happened. Alan had lost his arm. It had been taken away in the jaws of a bloodthirsty killer. But it was my fault, wasn't it? I was the one who shot it off. I wanted to slap myself in the face. There were so many alternatives that I could have chosen in that situation, but I panicked and shot his arm off. I hated myself for the decision I'd made. Absolutely hated myself. And as I stared down at the floor below me, I was desperate to let my frustration out. Then something strange happened. I felt somebody breathing very close to my ear. As I looked up slowly, I realised that the Xenomorph was now standing less than a foot in front of me.

"Jesus!" I gasped, stepping back in shock. The alien looked down at the floor, as if upset

"Wait…" I said, shifting towards her once again. "You were just trying to comfort me, weren't you?" She nodded slowly. I apologised quickly, suddenly feeling bad for being so tense around her. I was really starting to understand now. I thought back yet again to Nathan's words, but only now did I fully appreciate just how wrong he was. This Xenomorph was not a killer by any stretch of the imagination. She had made no attempt to hurt me at all. In fact, she'd done just the opposite. She'd tried to make me feel better. And it seemed only right that I did the same.

I decided in that moment to throw caution to the wind. Without so much as a second thought, I stepped even closer to the creature. Slowly, I reached out an open hand towards her, nervous as to how she might react. Thankfully, she leaned forward, allowing me to place my hand on her head. Then, in a long, sweeping motion, I gently stroked her smooth carapace. She smiled, and made a noise similar to a purr as I continued to rub her head carefully. Deep down, I was terrified. Here I was, standing before the universe's most perfect killer, and I was stroking her. But at the same time, I felt oddly…safe.

As I continued to stand there in the corridor, with my hand on the head of what was perhaps the only 'friendly' Xenomorph that had ever existed, I felt at peace. Just then, an idea popped into my head.

"I think I'll call you Xena." I announced. The Xenomorph smiled, seeming to agree with my choice of name. However, her smile soon fell when we heard voices from around the corner. I listened out carefully, and heard Nathan and Ryan as they conversed about Alan, who presumably was now sedated and layed down in a medpod in Science and Medical. As their voices came closer, the newly-named Xenomorph in front of me knew what to do almost immediately. Without warning, she pushed past me, running off down the corridor as my two colleagues appeared from the opposite end.

"Matthew?" Nathan asked, as soon as we made eye contact. "Why's your gun on the floor?" I looked down in panic, suddenly remembering that I'd set the weapon down on the floor behind me. Scrambling to pick it up, I stuttered loudly, trying to conjure up some excuse.

"It doesn't matter." He eventually said, shaking his head. "Look, Alan's in Science and Medical now. He's going to be fine."

"You said that about Cara…" I muttered under my breath, to which he replied with a demanding 'What?'

"Nothing." I assured him, walking closer to the two men. "Can I see him?"

"Sure, if you want." Nathan replied, although he did look quite confused as to why _I_ would want to see _Alan_. After all, I completely despised the guy. But I did still feel quite bad about shooting his arm off.

A couple of minutes later, Nathan and Ryan had led me around to Science and Medical. Nathan lowered his gun to fiddle around with the lockdown mechanism on the door, and eventually pulled it open. The metal door began to slide open slowly. Before it had even opened all the way, I heard the whining voice of Alan from inside.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Jones?" He shouted the second I stepped into the room.

"Oh, don't even start, Alan." I said sternly, walking over to a chair against the left wall.

"You cost me my arm, you bastard!" Alan yelled, getting up from the medpod and running towards me. Nathan and Ryan ran over to restrain him, although to be fair, he wasn't going to cause me much harm with one arm, was he?

"Alright, calm down, sir," Nathan said calmly, as he pulled the angry officer back towards his pod. "To be honest, what Matthew did was quite helpful."

"It was?" I asked, seeing the disgusted look on Alan's face in reaction to this statement.

"Yes, that Xenomorph was really biting down _hard_ on Lieutenant Grike's arm." Nathan continued. "The damage it did was so severe, we would have most likely had to amputate anyway. Thanks to you, Matt, all we had to do was clean up the cut."

"Oh. Well, I knew that of course." I lied, trying to justify my actions. "Just lucky for you it was your left hand, eh Alan?"

"I _am_ left-handed, for God's sake!" He shouted, smacking his right hand against his forehead. 'Ah', I thought to myself. 'Maybe not so lucky, then.'

Just then, Nathan coughed loudly to interrupt our argument. He pointed up at the clock in the room. The time was almost half past eight. Ordinarily, at this time, we'd all return to our quarters for personal recreational time, before going to bed at ten.

"It's getting late." Nathan said, gesturing towards the door.

"You can't be serious?" I asked, shocked by what he was suggesting. "How can we sleep with a killer on the prowl?"

"How can we not?" He replied sternly. "Matthew, it feels like we've been awake for days, and if we don't sleep, we'll eventually collapse from exhaustion. Then any hope of us surviving will be lost."

"So what, we just go and take a nice nap and hope that it doesn't kill us in our sleep?" I snapped back. His reply was laughable, truly. Obviously, he didn't put it as bluntly as I'm going to now, but I got the basic gist of what he meant.

"Yes."


	16. XVI

**XVI**

*NOTE – Hello everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and here I am again with another chapter of Xena, which by the way has exceeded over six _thousand_ readers in less than two months! As you can imagine, I'm super excited by this news, but there's still a long way to go yet. I'd also like to take this opportunity to talk about a new feature on my FanFiction bio. If you head over there now, you'll find a list of all my planned stories for the future, as well as when they'll be released. I've got all sorts planned for 2017 and 2018, and hopefully you'll stick with me for the experience. Anyway, that's enough rambling from me. Here it is! It's new, it's tasty, it- wait. Wrong story. It's Xena! THANK YOU!*

Despite my continuous objections to Nathan's proposal, I eventually accepted. He was right, after all. We couldn't stay awake forever. But it just seemed so stupid. A killer Xenomorph was roaming around aboard the ship, and we were expected to simply sleep? As I wandered back over to my quarters, I continued to run through all the things that could happen to us whilst we were asleep. What if the ventilation ducts had to open during the night to prevent oxygen levels in our quarters from dropping? What if there was a fire aboard the ship and the lockdown mechanisms all went into emergency release? All the while that I was over-thinking these outlandish scenarios, I found my mind drawn once more towards Xena. I thought of her, roaming the corridors of the ship alone, probably as afraid as I had been when I first found her. But what could I do?

As I reached my living quarters, I heard Archie's voice sounding from a speaker on the opposite wall of the corridor. He basically just reiterated the instructions Nathan had given us: to ensure our quarters were on full lockdown, including ventilation shafts, to sleep in full uniform, in case we had to evacuate in the middle of the night, and to keep our weapons by our bedsides, in case something did make its way into any of our rooms. I chose to ignore the second rule, preferring to sleep in the comfortability of my own pyjamas rather than my uniform. Nevertheless, within five minutes, I was ready to sleep, and had already clambered into bed, the room around me sealed as securely as it possibly could be. I turned over onto one side, wrapping the warm duvet around myself, and slowly closed my eyes as I drifted away.

"Coming, dear?" I asked, standing in front of a long dress mirror as I adjusted my tie. It really was a splendid outfit, I thought to myself, observing the finely-detailed stitching and high-quality trim of the sleek, black blazer. I looked up at the clock impatiently, and saw that the time was almost one o'clock. Then, I directed my gaze towards the closed door across the landing. A small sign on the door told me not to disturb. But if she didn't hurry up, we'd be late.

"We've got to be there in five minutes, sweetheart…" I continued, walking over to the door and knocking. No reply, of course. I pulled my sleeve up slightly and examined my watch, a pointless endeavor since I'd already checked the time. If she didn't hurry, I'd have to just meet her there, although that didn't seem very… chivalrous, under the circumstances.

Another minute or two passed, still without reply from the other room. Finally, I could stand it no more. I was just so eager to get going. And anyway, I wasn't supposed to see her before…

"Look, I'm going to get going, darling?" I said, heading towards the stairs. "I'll meet you there, OK?" And with that, I slowly walked down the stairs and towards the front door. As I stepped out, I shut the door gently behind me, making sure I left it unlocked for her to leave when she was ready. Fortunately for me, my destination was less than a block away from the house, so I could comfortably complete the journey on foot. I looked at my watch once more, becoming slightly nervous at the thought of what was coming. But I knew in my heart that it was what I wanted. I knew that it was the right decision.

Arriving outside the tall, stone building, I saw that the entryway was crowded with people. I noticed friends and family members milling about, conversing with one another about stuff and nonsense. Over the chatter, somebody called out my name, and everybody's gaze suddenly turned towards me. Within moments, everybody was pushing each other in my direction, eager to ask me how I was feeling, what I was thinking, and of course, where the lucky lady was. The commotion soon died down, after a man in a black robe with a white collar came out of the building, and told us all that it was time to go in. As the crowd of people sifted in through the huge oak doors, I looked around one last time. Where could she be, I thought to myself, I hoped to God that she hadn't shied out. Today of all days, she had to be here on time.

It took several minutes before everyone had gotten into the main hall and sat down, all of them still chattering away. Nathan came over and tapped me on the shoulder, telling me it was time.

"She'll be here, mate," He said, placing a hand on my shoulder to comfort me. "Don't worry about it." I thanked him for the support, knowing he was right. She wouldn't just leave me at the last minute like this. As the noise level in the room began to die down, Nathan pulled me towards the front, forcing me down the aisle to stand before the vicar.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you could be silent please," said the sharply dressed man of God, dampening the remaining flames of speech across the room. "The ceremony will now commence."

Suddenly, I was frozen on the spot, now terrified that she might not arrive in time, if at all. I peered over at Nathan, who stood a few feet to my side. Seeing the look in my eye, he gave me a quick thumbs up. I smiled back, and then gestured the vicar, who signaled to the organist, who nodded back. She turned to the enormous pipe organ in front of her, and resting her hands over the keys, began the opening flourish of 'The Wedding March'. Everyone around me was now silent and smiling, yet I continued to assume the worst of my companion. I heaved a huge sigh of relief when I heard the church doors behind me thrust open. Turning around to look down the aisle, I was met with the most beautiful sight in all the world. My bride.

The organist continued to play her uplifting tune as my soon-to-be wife stepped slowly down the aisle. I gazed at her, taking in every single one of her perfect features. The long, black legs, the delicate, gentle hands. The shiny, sweeping dome atop her head, which spanned well over two feet in length. Her thin, ridged tail swept along the ground as she walked, and her teeth glistened in the light of the church candles. Guests whispered to one another as she sauntered down the aisle towards me. Tears welled in my eyes as the glorious moment approached. There she was, walking towards me with a huge smile across her face. The love of my life. As she approached the altar before which I stood, I reached out to take her hand.

"Ahem," the vicar coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke. "Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to witness the partnership of Matthew and Xena in holy matrimony. The…" His voice slowly faded into nothing but a blur as I lost myself in Xena's eyes (a figure of speech, of course). The vicar continued to recite the usual words, words that had been spoken at so many marriages in the past, and words that would be spoken at so many in the future. But this was different. Never before in human history had there been a wedding quite like this. As I continued to gaze at my beautiful bride, she smiled back at me, and although to most it was nothing more than a blank stare, to me it meant everything. I heard the faint voice of the vicar as he repeated my name once more, a questioning tone in his voice.

"Oh, sorry." I said, snapping out of my daze. But I didn't need him to repeat the question. Looking at my still-smiling fiancée one more time, I took in a deep breath, and nodded to the vicar. I slowly whispered to him just two words: "I do."

"Very well," The vicar announced, now addressing the entire reception hall. "Then by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Everyone in the crowd behind us stood up and applauded, cheering for the happy couple. I reached up to Xena's shoulder with one arm, and pulled her closer towards me. Her mouth slowly opened as our faces approached one another. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for our lips to meet. And then…

"Jesus!" I yelled, opening my eyes and sitting bolt upright in my bed. I was breathing heavily and gasping for breath as I looked around the room. Realising what had just happened, I buried my face in my hands. What the fuck had I just dreamt? As I slowly began to catch my breath, I looked up at the clock, and saw that the time was 6:45 AM. Well, I was up now. Still, it was hard to push aside the image which was now stuck in my head. How could- I mean, why would- and what was- what was wrong with me?! I wanted to hit my head against a wall, I was so frustrated. Forcing myself to forget the bizarre dream, I got out of bed and hurriedly changed into my uniform. Then I slumped down in my desk chair, a hand rested against my forehead. I wanted to forget whatever it was I'd just imagined. That sick, twisted fantasy. I wanted it all to go away, for the idea to never have even popped into my head in the first place. But alas, I found that I simply couldn't.


	17. XVII

**XVII**

For the next twenty minutes or so, I simply sat at my desk in silence, wondering what my strange dream could have meant. I mean, was I going mad? Surely it wasn't normal for me to… 'fantasise' over a Xenomorph, was it? I'd like to say I wished it was all a dream, but sadly it _was_ all a dream. That was exactly the problem. I could come up with a variety of excuses, of course. Perhaps I was going space-crazy through homesickness. Perhaps a year in hypersleep really _had_ impacted my mental wellbeing. Then there was the craziest, and perhaps most terrifying, theory of all. Perhaps I was genuinely in love with Xena. The more I thought about it, the more insane it seemed. Not to mention what might happen if I said anything to the crew. No, this was definitely _not_ the kind of thing that I wanted anyone to find out about.

The next time I looked up at the clock, it was quarter past seven. I sat up, deciding to stop feeling sorry for myself and do some work. I had bigger fish to fry, right now, after all. Whilst one Xenomorph was weighing heavy on my mind, another was roaming around the ship, searching for its next victim. I grabbed the chain gun that still lay on the floor beside my bed, then, after a quick glance at the rota on my desk, I set off for the briefing room. As it turned out, I was the first to arrive, so I slotted my timecard into the machine by the door and sat down to wait for the rest of the crew. This gave me yet more time to think about the events that had unfolded in my dream the previous night, although I deliberately tried to distract myself from thinking about it for as long as possible. It was… unnatural, to say the least. I simply _had_ to put it from my mind.

It was about half past seven by the time somebody else finally showed up at the briefing room. I was almost drifting back to sleep, bored out of my mind with solitude, when a loud click suddenly resounded through the room from the thick metal door. It slowly grinded open, revealing Nathan standing in the corridor, toting a loaded energy-burst cannon.

"Ah, morning Nathan." I said, as cheerily as I could manage under the circumstances. But Nathan's face was far from happy. It was clear from his facial expression that he was rather distressed, and for a few moments, he didn't say a word. When he eventually did, his voice was filled with clear emotional turmoil, although he spoke as calmly and steadily as possible.

"You'd better come with me." He said, almost a whisper. Then, he walked away, without so much as a second glance.

Getting to my feet, I walked out into the corridor to follow Nathan, wondering what might have happened. Judging by his expression, it was bad news. But how bad? Nathan was a doctor, after all. He'd seen some shit in his time, so it had to be something pretty bad to warrant his grim facial expression. There were only two other crew members still alive on board the Archimedes, though: Alan and Ryan. 'It _must_ be one of them,' I thought to myself. I tried to question Nathan, but he ignored every word that I said. He was moving at quite a pace as we reached the stairwell, almost tripping a couple of times as he attempted to skip every other step. Once we reached the bottom, he slowed down a little, but only to give me time to catch up. Eventually, we reached Science and Medical. Nathan walked straight in, shutting the door behind us without hesitation.

"Ok, Nathan," I asked, as the disheveled doctor marched straight towards the medpod in the centre of the room. "Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" He still refused to say a word as he loomed over the capsule. Ryan and Alan stood at either side, staring down into the pod in similar dismay. Still, nobody said a word. Instead, Nathan merely gestured towards the medpod. I stepped closer, sensing the tension in the atmosphere. As I reached the edge of the pod, I was reluctant to look down into it. When I finally did, I was met with a sight that was perhaps more horrific than anything else I'd encountered so far. More gruesome than what had happened to Cara. More disgusting than what we'd found on the XH-12's shuttlecraft. There, lying motionless in the open pod, dismembered and grotesquely mutilated, was 2nd Technician Bradley Nicholson.

It was a truly nauseating spectacle, that was for sure. It made everything else I'd seen look like a walk in the park. There were limbs missing. There were huge gashes in what was left of the upper body. Almost half of the head had been torn away, leaving behind a mess of bloodstained hair and greying skin. I had to look away.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked Nathan in a whispered tone, turning myself away from the medpod.

"Alan and Ryan found him in a vent by the upper engine deck." Nathan replied, in an equally hushed voice. "It, uh… it looks like it didn't kill him straightaway. He could have been crawling through the ducts for hours before…"

"Before he died a slow and painful death." I said bluntly, having the courage to say what everybody knew was the truth.

"There was nothing we could have done, Jones." Alan said solemnly. "We opened the vent and… and there he was."

"What are we going to do with the body?" I asked, still desperately attempting to avoid looking into the medpod.

"Same as Cara." Nathan told me. "We'll take him home and make sure he has a decent funeral. It's the least he deserves." I nodded slowly, knowing that Nathan was right. After all, what had Bradley's true purpose been on our mission? Nathan, Alan, Cara and myself had all played integral roles in the seeding operations performed by the Archimedes. But Ryan and Brad? They were just technicians, here to keep everything shipshape. They didn't have advanced medical knowledge or superior navigational skill. They were just innocent civilians, bystanders in the greater picture of Ashbridge Industries International. Neither of them deserved the fate which Bradley had ultimately received.

For the next few minutes, I sat silently in a chair by the door of Science and Medical. I slouched forwards in my seat, head in my hands, still trying to comprehend what I'd seen. I mean, I already knew that Brad was dead. We all did, didn't we? But actually seeing him there, lying motionless, half of his body ripped up and taken away by his Xenomorph killer? It was truly harrowing. It made me realise just how lucky the rest of us were. To still be alive, to have avoided death up to this point. Then again, if we were really lucky, we'd never have received the XH-12's distress call in the first place. But now was certainly not a time for 'what ifs'. It had happened now, and that was that. All we could do was try to move forward.

"We need to kill these things as soon as possible." Alan eventually said. This was the first time since arriving at Science and Medical that I noticed the condition of his left arm, which was now bandaged just above where the elbow should have been. Despite his injury, he was still rearing to go, and even managed to lift his heavy energy-burst cannon with his remaining hand. Ryan and Nathan agreed, and readied their weapons in a similar fashion. Attention then turned to me. I grabbed the chain gun beside me and stood up from the chair. Everyone in the room now had a look of determination on their faces. Seeing Bradley dead had truly woken us up. We _would_ survive this. We _would_ get back to Earth. And we _would_ eliminate the Xenomorphs that were terrorizing our ship. 'Xenomorphs,' I thought to myself again. 'Xenomorph…s."

My mind suddenly focused once more on Xena. She wasn't a killer. She wasn't heartless. Both Bradley and Alan had been attacked by the other Xenomorph. But nobody would believe that, would they? Nathan, Alan, and especially Ryan, would never accept that Xena was no more than a harmless, frightened creature, trying to keep herself safe. I remembered what Alan had said. 'We have to kill these _things_ as soon as possible." The other crew members were of a similar view. And who could blame them? After they'd seen what one of these creatures was capable of, it was understandable that they wanted both of them dead. They genuinely believed that these creatures had no right to live. But I knew better. And now I was faced with a dilemma. How could I keep Xena alive without the others knowing that I was protecting her?

My train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the sound of grinding metal. I looked over at the door and realised that the others were now leaving. It was time for another 'hunt'. The three men had a clear and definitive mindset right now. They intended to find and kill the Xenomorphs that roamed their ship. Both of them. I followed suit, wandering out into the corridor, but I deliberately separated myself from the group to allow me time to think. I thought about Xena, and the dream I'd had last night. I thought about Bradley's body, and the possibility of one of us going next. As I walked along quietly towards the engine bay, I felt my heart racing. I was frightened of the killer Xenomorph which still roamed the ship. I was distraught over the discovery of Bradley's body. But most of all, I was worried about what might happen to Xena.


	18. XVIII

**XVIII**

I reached the engine bay a few minutes later, hundreds of thoughts still racing through my mind. Nevertheless, one thought kept forcing itself to the top of the pile again and again: What had happened to Bradley? Up until about ten minutes ago, we'd all just assumed that he'd been killed in an instant; that he'd been ripped to shreds and devoured in less time than it takes to peel a banana. Sadly, we knew better now. He hadn't died a quick and painless death. Oh no. It had been slow and torturous. I could only imagine the agony he'd been in during those final moments. Thinking about the whole thing made Alan's lost arm seem like nothing more than a paper cut. As I traversed the metal gangway to the upper engine bay, I found myself determined to know exactly what had happened. I wanted to know exactly how Bradley's life had come to its end.

Reaching the cold, rusted wall of the upper engine bay, I began to examine the iron-lattice floor beneath my feet. The rigid metal was damp; the heat of the ship's huge generators slowly evaporating what little moisture remained. A few patches of thick liquid clung to the metal bars, dripping slowly towards the solid floor below. Whether this was blood or not was difficult to tell under the red light of the engine bay, although I could make an educated guess. My gaze then drifted towards a ventilation aperture protruding from the wall. The hatch was firmly closed, and remained that way when I approached it, thanks to any and all entryways on the ship still being on lockdown. I had no option but to pry the spindly metal teeth of the portal open, which I did, with great caution, after carefully placing the heavy chain gun on the ground beside me.

No sooner than I had wrenched back the first of the aperture's countless metal teeth, the rest sprang back, opening the hatch wide. A strong smell emanated from the duct, which I immediately recognised as that of a recently deceased human. Even now, after Brad's remains had been cleared away by Alan and Ryan, the smell lingered. Spatters of the same thick liquid that littered the gangway behind me coated the walls of the thin tunnel. I found that curiosity got the better of me once again, and, after whisking the chain gun back into my arms, I squeezed myself into the ventilation shaft. I wanted to know what had truly happened here. I wanted to understand what Brad had been through. A thin sliver of blood trailed its way along the shaft and out of view around a nearby corner. Heaving in a deep sigh, I followed the trail, hoping to discover just how far our doomed colleague had traveled before his failing organs had finally given out.

For the next five minutes or so, I clawed my way along the stuffy, cramped air duct, pulling myself in the direction of the blood trail. Quite how Bradley had managed to travel like this in his condition was a mystery, especially given that I, a perfectly healthy person with all four of my limbs still firmly attached, was struggling enough myself. The trail went on for quite some time, twisting and turning around corners and junctions. Occasionally, it skipped a couple of feet, whereas in other places it welled up into small puddles. Finally, after several minutes of what seemed like aimless wandering around the needlessly complicated ventilation system of the Archimedes, the trail stopped. Completely. I looked up and saw a hatch on the roof of the ventilation shaft. Streaks of blood came from the hatch, coagulating in a small pool beneath it. This was clearly the point at which the Xenomorph had first taken Bradley, or at least the point at which the first blow had been dealt.

Tugging back on the thin sheet of rigid metal, I heard a loud click, and the hatch shot open. I pulled myself up into the corridor above, only to discover that I now stood in the centre of the branch between the ring of living quarters and the observation deck corridor. It was at around this point that Brad had first disappeared. I still remembered his blood-curdling scream as the murderous Xenomorph had dragged him away. And now, here I was, standing in the very same spot that he'd been standing in when it took him. Well, he hadn't actually been standing in this spot, of course. He'd been running _across_ this spot. Look, you know what I mean. Anyway, as I looked down into the bloody ventilation duct below, a realisation suddenly hit me. One which really made me question how little action we'd actually taken. I realised that we could have saved him.

'Just think about it for a second, Matt…' I thought to myself, pulling the metal hatch back to its closed position once again. When Bradley had screamed out to us yesterday, we'd all assumed he'd been instantly killed. As it turned out, he hadn't died for several hours _after_ that. All we had to do was step out of the briefing room and open the vent hatch on the floor. We could have found Brad, injured but still alive, still clinging desperately to life. We could have at least _tried_ to help him. Yet what did we do? We simply shrugged him off, jumping to the conclusion that he was dead. Could he really have still been with us today if we'd only found him sooner? The very premise was haunting. So much so that I felt the need to return to my quarters for a while. I needed time to think. To try and sort this whole thing out in my already aching head.

A minute or two later, I was outside my living quarters. I had the strange feeling that somebody was watching me as I pressed the button beside the sealed door. I darted my eyes from side to side, without actually moving my head, paranoid that someone was lurking nearby. As the door slowly began to slide open, I readied myself to step inside. Suddenly, I felt a cold breath on my shoulder. I shuddered involuntarily, before turning around in an instant. I was so shocked to see Xena standing behind me that I stumbled backwards and fell onto the carpeted floor of my room.

"For fuck's sake, Xena!" I snapped, scrambling to get back to my feet. "You can't keep springing up on me like that!" The gentle Xenomorph simply smiled back at me. I peered out into the corridor and saw that nobody else was nearby. Then, I returned my attention to Xena, saying to her quite simply: "You'd better come in."

I must admit, the mindset required for someone to invite a Xenomorph into their bedroom was by no means a sensible one. In this case, though, I had valid reason to do so. Xena wasn't going to hurt me, and I wasn't going to hurt her. If I left her wandering the corridors outside, things might go a little differently. Besides, I had to talk to her. Get things off my chest.

"Sit on the bed if you want," I mumbled, slumping down into my desk chair as I had done so many times before. When she opted to remain stood, I continued, explaining to her everything that had been going on recently.

"The thing is, Xena…" I began, propping an elbow on the desk behind. "Well, things have been going from bad to worse around here today. The others want to kill you even more now. They found Brad's body in a vent by the engine bay." I saw her face fall in dismay as I continued to explain to her, as nicely as possible, how much the others despised her very existence.

"Look," I said, getting up from my seat. "I know you don't mean anyone any harm. But _they_ don't know that. And if they find out I'm covering for you, I've had it." I walked over to where Xena stood silently. She towered over me at a little over 8 feet tall. She looked at me with a sad expression on her face. The edges of her mouth pointed downwards slightly, and I even heard what could be described as a sigh. She was clearly trying to make me feel guilty. But I was having none of it.

"I'm not going to let you guilt trip me, Xena." I frowned, shaking my head at her futile efforts. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can't keep sticking my neck out for you all the time. You have to understand that the others… they're not as open-minded as I am." I noticed that she shrugged her shoulders slightly at this point, so I assumed that she understood my dilemma.

A couple of moments passed in silence before I spoke again. It wasn't exactly easy to talk to Xena, after all. The rules of a conventional, two-way conversation didn't exactly apply in these situations.

"There's something else I wanted to tell you." I continued eventually, deciding it was best to just get it out now. "I've been… thinking about you a lot lately." Her expression suddenly transformed into a much more confused state, which essentially personified exactly how I was feeling about the whole thing.

"Forget it." I mumbled, looking down at my feet as I returned to my desk. "It's not important. What _is_ important is what I'm going to do about you. You've got to stay out of trouble, for your own sake."

Getting to my feet once more, I walked over to Xena, who still stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Look, I want to help you, Xena, really I do." I explained carefully. "But I can't keep hiding you like this." She nodded slowly, turning away slightly. Her expression once again returned to the 'upset' position.

"I'm sorry." I continued, walking towards her slowly. "But I just can't offer you round-the-clock protection." I reached up with one arm, placing it on her head, just above the mouth, and stroked backwards gently. She smiled, and then leaned her head forwards even more so I could reach the back. I continued to stroke her, slowly and carefully. Suddenly, my eyes met her blind gaze. My own smile immediately fell to a much more solemn expression.

As I stared into Xena's blank yet… mesmerizing face, I felt a sudden compulsion rush over me. I realised that I could contain myself no longer. Suddenly, I felt like I'd lost control of my whole body, like somebody else was doing everything for me. The hand with which I stroked Xena's head had now fallen to her chin. My other arm had been involuntarily lifted, and placed around her waist. I was astonished to discover that she had done the same. I continued to gaze in wonder at the spectacle before me, the events of last night's dream flooding back into my head. I knew what was about to happen. I willed myself not to do it, but I simply could not resist. I leaned in slowly, as did Xena. Our faces gradually approached one another, until they were less than an inch apart. I closed my eyes as our mouths met. And then, there we were. Human and Xenomorph, together.

For several moments, the two of us stood there, cradling one another in each other's arms. My grip around Xena's waist tightened, intensifying the embrace. She returned the action, her long, thin arms encompassing me gently. I felt a warm feeling in my mouth as her inner jaws slipped into my own, encompassing my tongue in a strange 'double kiss'. I'd never felt anything quite like this before. But it was heaven. I wanted it to stay like this forever: the two of us in each other's arms, holding one another for eternity. My troubles seemed to melt away; I was on Cloud Nine. However, like all good things, the kiss soon came to an abrupt end. Like a car driving into a brick wall, it suddenly hit me. I suddenly realised exactly what I was doing. My eyes opened in a flash, I loosened my grip around Xena's waist, and pushed myself away from her quickly.

"No." I said, breathing heavily. "No, no, no. Shit! Fucking… shit!" Xena stepped back, a sad look on her face.

"You…" I said, gulping. "You have to go. Please, just… just leave." I sat back down in my chair, and buried my head in my hands over the desk. I felt her standing behind me, still perplexed by my sudden change of heart.  
"GET OUT!" I yelled, turning to look at the distraught creature. She jumped up into the air vent above, the hatch rattling as she forced her way through it and scurried away. What in God's name had I just done? It was… I was… I didn't even know what to think of myself anymore. I felt ashamed, disgusted even. But at the same time, it had just felt so… right. Burying my face in my hands once more, I began to weep quietly. The confusion of emotions was simply too overwhelming for me to handle.


	19. XIX

**XIX**

*NOTE – Hello everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and here I am once again with a fresh chapter of 'Xena' for you all to enjoy. Sorry that this one's a little bit short, but I was a bit pressed for time. I'll try and flesh the next one out a bit to compensate. Until then, there's really nothing more for me to say. So read on and enjoy. It's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

For the next few minutes, I was completely silent. I simply stared blankly into the wall, my face pale as a sheet. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't shake what had happened from my mind. I hated myself for it; it felt like I'd done something truly unforgivable. Yet at the same time, it had been… amazing. Was I wrong for even thinking about it for a second? As I tried desperately to come to terms with my decision, I heard the loud, repetitive thump of a knuckle against the door. It startled me for a moment, breaking the silence in the room as the hand continued to knock. I stood up, gathering my bearings as I wandered over to the door, and pushed a button on the adjacent control panel. The locking mechanism clicked noisily and the huge slab of metal slid aside, revealing the source of the knocking: Ryan.

"Jones." He began sternly, before I'd even had time to acknowledge his presence.

"Goddard." I replied, in an equally serious tone. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing sir, nothing at all…" He said, leaning against the door frame with an unsatisfied expression on his face. "Just wondering what gives you the right to sit about in your quarters whilst we're busy hunting for killer Xenomorphs, that's all." It took me a moment to realise what he was talking about. Then, I suddenly remembered the search. It had completely slipped my mind, what with… well, you know. And now, here was Ryan, standing in the doorway, wanting to know what I was playing at.

"Ah, w-well…" I stuttered, trying to conjure up some reasonably believable excuse. "I just, uh…"

"Save it, Matthew," Ryan snapped, much to my surprise. "I don't need to hear your excuses."

"Excuse me?!" I replied, astonished by the man's outburst. "Now I don't mean to be a dickhead or anything, Ryan, but you can't just come into my quarters and speak to me like that, I'm your superior officer."

"Oh, please," He said sarcastically. "There's a difference between rank and experience, you know."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked, trying not to raise my voice. Ryan bit his lip, shaking his head as his face became slightly red. He was clearly not in the greatest of moods right now.

"Now you listen to me, Jones." He said through gritted teeth. "You may have just waltzed over to the nearest enrollment centre you could find and signed yourself up for a couple of years of boot-licking, but I've worked long and hard for this company and others. I worked for Weyland-Yutani long enough to learn that these things are a force to be reckoned with. So tell me: what expertise can you provide, eh? What do you know about them?"

'That they're good kissers,' I thought to myself bluntly, although I feared that Ryan might genuinely kill me if I said it aloud.

"I know that they leech DNA from their host's body." I told him plainly. "And I know that in the extremely rare case of twin birth, one specimen may deviate more from its base genetics than the other."

"Is that so?" Ryan asked with a raised eyebrow. "Nathan tell you that, did he?" He came closer to me, so close in fact that I had to take a step back. "Anyway, regardless of any genetic differences between the two… specimens, as you put it, they are still both vicious killers that need to be eliminated at all costs." Those last few words made my blood boil. He was wrong, and I knew perfectly well that he was. But I couldn't just blurt out the truth about Xena now, could I? Anyway, something else was bugging me right now. I thought back to when I'd first met Ryan. He told me that he'd worked as a low-ranking science officer for Weyland-Yutani. He'd also mentioned his position several times since then, to the rest of the crew as well. That was precisely what was bugging me. It seemed more than a little strange that such an insignificant member of Weyland-Yutani's staff had seemed to have a pretty solid knowledge of the Xenomorph species so far.

"Tell me, Ryan…" I began, a smug look on my face as I directed the doubt towards him, "How exactly did you come by all this information about Xenomorphs?"

"I don't know what you mean." He replied bluntly.

"Oh, come off it," I continued, pressing the topic further. "You recognised their eggs. You knew that conventional weapons wouldn't harm them. Seems like proprietary information to me."

"I _didn't_ know that it would kill Cara." He said bitterly, an air of seriousness to his voice. I suddenly felt that maybe I had pushed him too far. Even so, I still had this sneaking suspicion that Ryan knew more than he was letting on.

"I'm sorry, Ryan." I said solemnly, although I refrained from placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Even though he didn't show it, I could tell that I'd upset him. I agreed to go with him to continue searching for the Xenomorphs that were still at large. Deep down, I wanted to tell him about Xena; that she was friendly, that we should let her live. But if I knew one thing about Ryan, it was that he was a very discriminating person. If one Xenomorph was a killer, they all were. _No exceptions._

A few minutes later, we had reached the briefing room, where we regrouped with Alan and Nathan. I could tell by their facial expressions that they had been searching exhaustively all morning. It made me feel a little apologetic for skiving off work to have a nice chat with Xena in my quarters. I considered whether I should mention my experience to either of them, but decided against it. First of all, Alan was as stubborn as a mule. If someone told him that there were two killer aliens on the ship, then there _were two_ killer aliens on the ship. As for Nathan, well… honestly, I didn't know if I could trust him with information like that. I mean, out of all of my fellow crew members, Nathan was the most accepting by far. But that didn't mean you could trust him with a secret. If I told him, he'd almost certainly tell the others. No, no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't tell either of them.

Before long, Alan, Ryan and Nathan had made a plan of action for their continued search into the afternoon. Once again, we'd be traveling as a group, in order to preserve what little crew remained. After all, we now numbered just four men (and only seven arms between us). Lunch, Alan dictated, was 'not going to happen', because there were slightly more pressing matters at hand. I said that this was ridiculous, mostly because I was getting quite hungry at the time, but he was adamant. 'We'll have double rations for tea', he said. 'How about double rations for lunch?' I said.

After another five minutes or so, we were all geared up, ready to head out on yet another arbitrary Xenomorph 'hunt'. It occurred to me that it was quite hypocritical of us to be hunting down and killing these creatures so that they wouldn't be able to hunt down and kill _us_ , but there you have it. As we stepped out into the corridor, I was tempted once more to say something about Xena. Just mention her casually, that's all I had to do. But I found myself intimidated by the potential consequences. There were three fully-armed men around me, all of whom pretty much despised anything remotely linked to the word 'Xenomorph'. If I suddenly blurted out 'Oh, by the way guys, I snogged one of these things earlier', I'd be giving myself a death sentence. It'd be like a teenage boy telling his devoutly Christian parents that he had a boyfriend. Big mistake.

As we wandered along the corridor towards the starboard stairway, I found my mind focusing on Xena once again. I thought about the kiss, about how it had all happened. It was a heat of the moment thing, of course. And perhaps I was insane for saying so, but I really had… enjoyed it. Then I'd snapped at her, told her to go away. Was that wrong of me? I hadn't meant to upset her, but… Damn it, she shouldn't have lured me in with her fancy tail and her fancy head! The confusion of emotions was driving me insane. She was a Xenomorph, she wasn't even human. But then again, she showed human emotion. Hell, she was more emotive than most humans I knew! There really was only one explanation for all of this. The conflicting feelings. The regret, but at the same time, acceptance. The fact that she was constantly on my mind. I knew it all too well.

I was in love. And it was horrible.


	20. XX

**XX**

"So how long are we going to spend searching for these things?" Nathan asked after a while, an impatient look on his face. We were just passing Science and Medical when he asked, and he stared longingly through the thick glass window on the door as we walked by.

"You'll have plenty of time to do your research tonight, Smith." Alan replied coolly. "For now, let's just concentrate on eliminating the constant threat of death that looms over us, Ok?" Nathan muttered something under his breath, but it was too quite to be distinguishable. Alan simply ignored him, and the group kept moving without so much as another word. I was curious, though, about Nathan's 'research'. I tapped him on the shoulder as we walked, and asked him about it casually.

"What exactly is your research at the moment, Nathan?" I enquired, eager to learn more.

"Well, when we first got up from hypersleep, I was planning to study the effects of near-light-speed travel on three varieties of flower which I left out when we first left Earth." He explained. "However, taking recent events into consideration, I decided to divert my attention towards studying the Xenomorph species. They're actually pretty fascinating creatures, you know."

"Fascinating's not the word I'd use." Alan said over his shoulder. "Nothing more than emotionless murderers." I tried not to let Alan's words get to me. But seriously: _emotionless murderers_? How could he, how could any of them for that matter, be such a discriminative, stereotyping idiot? Yes, I understood that Nathan and Alan were only going off information which Ryan had provided them about the Xenomorphs, but was it so hard for them to accept that maybe, just maybe, not all Xenomorphs were like that? This was exactly why I didn't want to say anything to them about Xena.

"Anyway, Nathan," I continued, realising that the conversational thread was still in my hands. "How do you study them?"

"Well, I haven't technically studied _them_ , per se." He told me. "I managed to find traces of Xenomorph DNA on Cara and Brad's bodies. Hopefully I can learn enough from that to be able to warn everyone about them when we get back to Earth."

" _If_ we get back to Earth." Alan said bluntly, stopping for a moment to open the engine bay door.

"Ever the optimist, aren't we, Alan?" I asked sarcastically. But the facial expression with which he replied was not a jolly one.

"I'm just trying to be realistic here, Matthew." He replied through gritted teeth. "I mean, let's face facts: We've already lost two crew members, not to mention my arm. Do you honestly think all four of us'll make it home alive?"

"If we aren't going to make it home alive, then why are we wasting our time trying to kill these things?" Nathan asked, almost shouting by the end. Tensions were clearly high right now, and nobody was really helping the situation.

"Do you have a better idea, Smith?" Alan snapped, in an even louder voice. "You think we should just lie down and die?!"

"I think, Alan, that if we want to survive, we shouldn't have such a depressing outlook on the situation!" Nathan replied, his voice now raised to a full shout. I'd never heard him speak to Alan like this before, and frankly I was shocked. I attempted desperately to calm the two men down, both of them now arguing with each other noisily. Had they forgotten exactly what we were doing right now? I looked over at Ryan for some kind of support, but he was staring silently into the engine bay, seemingly taken aback. I peered over his shoulder to see what he was looking at, although I'm sure you don't need to be told what it was. Creeping towards us along the latticed metal gangway above the engines, silently watching, but ready to pounce as Alan and Nathan continued to shout, was a Xenomorph.

"Shit," I whispered, turning to look at Ryan. He had taken a couple of steps back, although he had readied his weapon to fire at the creature. I did the same, and elbowed Nathan behind me to alert him and Alan to the danger. They also raised their guns, and the four of us now stood silently in the corridor, ready to open fire on the alien. For once, we weren't going to cower away. For once, we weren't going to flee in terror from the approaching threat. We'd lost too much already; too many men, too many women… too many arms. This time we were going to fight. That was, until it started running towards us.

"Can we run now?" Alan whimpered, his energy-burst cannon shaking in his remaining hand.

"No." Ryan said sternly, lifting his own cannon onto his shoulder. "We fire!" He pulled down the trigger, and a bolt of brilliant white light erupted from the barrel. The bolt smashed into the underside of the metal gangway, sending electrical sparks flying.

"Now," He shouted, seeing that the shot had missed the Xenomorph, "we run!"

The next few moments were a blur. Everyone pushed past each other as we sprinted down the corridor away from the engine bay. Ryan, still determined not to go down without a fight, turned back and fired off a couple more shots, before catching back up to us as we bundled through the door into the stairwell. We didn't stop to look back then. Instead, the four of us shot up the stairway in a flash, forcing our way through the door at the top. The sound of the Xenomorph's footsteps behind us began to die down as we reached the junction in front of Archie's central hub. Could it be possible? Had we really managed to lose a creature which could outrun even the fastest men in the world? We weren't going to take any chances, that was for sure. Even once the growling and the footsteps behind us had completely ceased, we refused to stop moving, for fear of an ambush.

Eventually, we reached the door to the upper engine bay. By this point, the group had slowed to a brisk walk. Alan once again pressed a button on the control panel next to the door, and it grinded open slowly as we all caught our breath.

"Bollocks!" Alan exclaimed as the door slid aside to reveal the grated iron gangway. The whole structure still fizzed with electricity from the misplaced shot Ryan had fired earlier. If any of us touched it for even a second, we'd regret it. The only way we could go was back towards the stairwell.

"We'll never make it." Nathan said, shaking his head. "That thing can't be far behind us."

"We can't go through the engine bay." Alan replied, gesturing towards the fizzing metal floor. "What choice do we have?" He was right, of course. We couldn't risk crossing the electrified gangway. We just had to hope and pray that the Xenomorph which was chasing us had lost interest and wandered off again.

As we crept back down the corridor towards the front of the ship, we scarcely made a sound. Nobody dared speak for fear of alerting the Xenomorph, which could potentially still be hiding nearby. Ryan led the procession, closely followed by Alan and Nathan. I brought up the rear, as usual, but the solitude gave me time to think. I thought about what I was going to do about Xena. About whether I should break it to the others or not. Every word that came out of their mouths made me even more reluctant to say anything. I was still trying to come to terms with what had happened myself, let alone go telling everyone about it. I mean, it was a pretty big deal, wasn't it? Sharing a kiss with an alien creature. As I continued to dwell on this thought, I noticed the rest of the group come to a halt at the end of the corridor.

"W-" I began in a whispered tone, before Nathan smacked a hand over my mouth to shut me up. He pointed to where the corridor wall disappeared around a corner. Ryan stood there, peering carefully around the edge. He signaled to the rest of us to gather around him, although he still refused to speak a single word. I realised at once what was going on, and approached the corner slowly, the enormous chain gun in my hands cocked and ready to fire. Alan and Nathan also came in close, and before long, we were ready to go. Ryan nodded slowly, peering round the corner once more. Then, he turned back to us, and stuck his thumb up in the air. Showtime.

Without further hesitation, we bundled around the corner to face the alien threat before us. The creature turned it's head in our direction instantly. It growled and hissed, but stood rooted to the spot as we pointed our guns towards it, seemingly reluctant to attack. I noticed that the creature was slightly thinner than it had seemed when it chased us not five minutes ago. It's waist was also slightly wider, and the ribcage protruded slightly from the rest of the torso. My heart raced as I suddenly realised exactly what was going on. The alien that stood before us was not the same alien that had just been chasing us. It was Xena.

The other three men clicked back the catches on their weapons, ready to fire at will. I saw Xena's face fall as she realised she was about to be shot. I had to act now. If I didn't, they'd kill her. I had to do _something_. I had to…

"NO!" I yelled, diving forwards and pushing the others aside. Someone's gun fired off towards the ceiling, but I couldn't tell who's it was, as the four of us collapsed to the ground in a heap. I looked up just long enough to see Xena bolting away down the corridor, trying to get away as quickly as possible. Then I watched as the others got to their feet. I could tell by the looks in the eyes of each and every one of them that what I had just done had truly pushed them over the edge.


	21. XXI

**XXI**

"What the fuck do you think you're playing at, Jones?" Alan yelled, reaching down to grab his gun from the floor. He breathed heavily as he looked at me angrily, his face as red as a beetroot.

"Damn it, Matthew, we almost had it!" Nathan added, a similar look of disappointment on his face. The three men now stared right at me, with steely eyes and grim expressions, each of them as royally pissed off as the last.

"You'd better have a damn good explanation for this…" Alan continued.

"I… it…" I tried desperately, hoping for some perfect excuse to present itself to me. But none did. Instead, I simply stuttered uncontrollably, my body jittering and my palms sweating.

It was at this moment in time that Ryan stepped into the conversation, which came somewhat as a relief for me, as it gave me a little longer to conjure up an explanation. That was, at least, until I heard what he had to say.

"I knew he was hiding something, sir," He began, addressing Alan. "Nathan said he'd been asking funny questions."

"Oh, thanks for the confidentiality, Nathan(!)" I said sarcastically, slightly offended by his betrayal of my privacy.

"He's a sympathiser." Ryan continued, with particular emphasis of disgust on the word 'sympathiser'.

"Now hold on, Ryan." I said, attempting to defend myself. "I may be many things, but a sympathiser is not one of them. Do you really think I'd defend these… _things_?" I had to force that last word out to make it sound convincing.

For a second or two, nobody spoke. Ryan was clearly dead-set in his opinion, but Nathan and Alan were still deciding whether or not to believe me. I just hoped I was a convincing enough liar to get them on my side.

"So why _did_ you let it escape, then?" Alan asked skeptically. Clearly he was at least _trying_ to believe me.

"Well…" I began, and then, it suddenly hit me. The perfect excuse. Such an elaborate and scientifically questionable excuse that they'd have to believe me. Such an unfathomably brilliant, needlessly complicated excuse that… anyway, I had an excuse.

"I had to stop us from all firing at once." I said confidently. ' _There,_ ' I thought to myself smugly. ' _That'll do it_ '. Alan looked at me with a raised eyebrow, clearly confused by my unusual explanation. He asked me to elaborate, so I did.

"It's like this," I began, preparing to unleash my story upon the awaiting men. "Alan, you and Ryan have supercharged energy-burst cannons, right? If you'd both fired them at the same target, the combined electrical force produced by the collision would have been sufficient enough to power all of the Archimedes' onboard systems for over three months. Now, I had an experimental chain gun, didn't I? The chain gun releases a strip of metal at great speed from its barrel when fired. Couple that strip of metal with thousands of volts of electricity, and whatever it hit would be dead within an instant."

"Exactly." Ryan said bluntly. "If you hadn't pushed us all over the place, that thing would be dead by now."

"Goddard's right, Jones." Alan agreed. "It doesn't add up."

Shaking my head, and smiling slightly at my own brilliance, I geared myself up to counteract Ryan's argument.

"That's where you're wrong, Ryan." I beamed. "You forgot about Nathan's weapon. The neutron displacement beam emitter. Capable of disintegrating its target into particulate matter instantaneously. Now, if Nathan had fired the beam emitter at the supercharged, high-speed bolt of metal that was hurtling towards the creature, it would have made contact and disintegrated it. Then, billions upon billions of highly-charged microscopic particles would have ricocheted throughout the corridor, not only killing the creature, but eradicating all of us as well. So yes, I let the Xenomorph escape. But only to save all of us." I leaned back against a nearby wall, feeling pleased with my seemingly watertight story (which of course was complete bollocks).

"Nice try, Matthew." Ryan chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really think we'll believe that?" I glanced over at Alan and Nathan, both of whom looked as if they were actually considering the validity of my story. Thank God.

"I appreciate that you were trying to act in the best interests of the crew, Jones." Alan eventually said. "But-"

"Oh, come on, Alan!" Ryan interrupted. "You don't honestly buy this crap, do you?"

"I beg your pardon, Goddard?!" Alan replied, startled. "For your information, I do 'buy this crap'. I believe that Jones did what he had to for the good of the crew."

"Thank you, Alan." I nodded. "I'm just glad none of us got hurt."

"I couldn't agree more, Jones." He agreed. "We've lost too much already. However, despite your actions, you've still greatly jeopardised our mission, you understand? The appropriate punishment under these circumstances is zero-level clearance." Ryan's scowl suddenly turned to a smug grin. My face, on the other hand, fell.

"Zero-level clearance?" I pleaded. "Are you serious?" He couldn't do this to me. I was his second-in-command.

"Sir, don't you think that's a bit harsh?" Nathan asked. "And we need as many men as possible if we want to kill these things."

"I appreciate your concern, Smith, but my decision is final." Alan said sternly. "Jones, you will return to your quarters immediately. You will remain there until we reach Earth, where your wages for this mission will be docked appropriately." I tried desperately to reason with Alan, but he was having none of that. He assured me that the sooner I complied, the less hassle it would be for all of us. But seriously: zero-level clearance? Me? I hadn't done anything _that_ serious, had I?

A few minutes later, the others had made plans to continue searching the ship. I was told that they'd check in with Archie in five minutes to make sure I'd returned to my quarters immediately. As they wandered away, I was left wondering about the implications of what I'd just done. Alan and Nathan were satisfied with my version of events, but Ryan? Not so much. Was he on to me? Did he really know what had happened between me and Xena? And that reminded me: what would happen to Xena now? If I was being banished to my quarters, how could I ensure that she was safe from harm, that the others wouldn't find her and kill her? I found myself wishing that none of this had ever happened as I marveled at the mess that I'd got myself into. My heart was still racing from nearly killing Xena, let alone having to explain myself when I defended her.

When I reached my quarters, I stepped inside silently and sat down, as usual, at my desk. I buried my face in my hands, and lost myself in deep thought. 'Just think, Matthew,' I said to myself. 'Just think how much easier this whole thing would have been if you hadn't gone falling in love with a Xenomorph, you prick.' It was certainly a dire situation I was in now. Ryan, Alan and Nathan still roamed around the ship, shooting at shadows, always watching their backs in anticipation of the approaching danger. But if they found Xena, there'd be no danger. If they found Xena, she'd cower away from them, she'd refuse to engage in any form of combat. She'd wave the white flag of surrender and they'd gun her down anyway, with not so much as a second thought about the possibility that she didn't want to hurt them. Even with me around to keep her out of trouble, she'd managed to wander right into our path. Now she was alone out there. She could be dead within the night.

After a while, I lifted my head out of my hands and checked the time. It was almost five already. How time flies when you're wallowing in self-loathing. I wasn't allowed to leave my quarters _at all_ until we finally made it back to Earth, so I assumed that somebody would bring me something to eat sooner or later. Until then, I simply crawled under the thin sheets of my cold, hard bed, and tried to forget about my troubles. 'Forget about your problems, and they just might go away'. I can't remember who told me that. Must've been a long time ago. Whoever they were, though, they were full of shit, because I was laid in that bed for over forty-five minutes and my problems were still right there, clear as day. In fact, they were still there by 6:15 in the evening, when a knock at the door broke the silence in the room.

Getting to my feet, I walked over to the door, and called out to learn who it was before letting them in.

"Who is it?" I asked, although I was already pushing the button on the adjacent wall to release the locking mechanism. As the door moved away, it revealed, for the second time that day, Ryan. He stood in the doorway with a cafeteria tray filled with a delightfully grey stew, or something like that.

"Just came to bring you your tea, Matthew." He said, pushing straight past me and placing the tray on my desk quite forcibly.

"Yeah, well if that's all, you can go now, Ryan." I replied. I was in no mood to talk to _him_ right now.

"Actually, there is something else…" He told me, a look upon his face which was totally unreadable. He walked over to the door and shut it, ensuring I was unable to shy away from the conversation. "I thought you and I could have a little chat about you and your Xenomorph pals."


	22. XXII

**XXII**

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Did Ryan really know what had been going on with me and Xena? I mean, I know he'd had his suspicions all along, but how could he know? 'Easy, Matthew,' I thought to myself. 'Just play it cool…'

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ryan." I said calmly.

"Oh, I think you do, Matthew." He replied slyly. "I'm not an idiot, you know. And _I_ know that _you_ know about the money."

"Money?" I asked, now genuinely confused. I'd heard nothing about any money. What on Earth was he on about?

"Don't play dumb with me, Jones." He snapped, folding his arms. "There's only one logical explanation that I can think of for your reckless actions: You know about the money."

I sat down at my desk, still legitimately dumbfounded by Ryan's words. Whatever he thought he knew, he was wrong. But what did he think he knew? And furthermore, if _he_ knew that _I_ knew about the money, then _he_ must have known about it, too.

"Ryan, please," I began, leaning forwards and staring down at the floor. "Just tell me what's going on."

"You really haven't figured it out, have you?" He chuckled, shaking his head at my apparent stupidity. "Very well, then, I'll tell you. You remember how over the years that I've know you and the others, I've told you on several occasions about how I used to work as a low-ranking science officer at Weyland-Yutani? Well, that's not strictly true…"

"Not true?" I asked, puzzled. "You mean you never worked for Weyland-Yutani?" Ryan shook his head again.

"Oh, Matthew…" He grinned. "Sweet, naïve Matthew. Of course I worked for Weyland-Yutani. But a low-ranking science officer? Me? Try 'Chief Scientific Officer of Biological Weapons – Thedus Division'."

My face suddenly fell as I took in Ryan's words. Chief Scientific Officer? Biological Weapons? The shock of this new information made my head spin. It was just as well that I was sitting down.

"That's right, Matthew," He smiled sinisterly. "I know _anything_ and _everything_ there is to know about the Xenomorphs."

"You knew, didn't you?" I asked, casting my mind back to when we'd first received the distress signal from the XH-12. "You knew that there was a nest on the landing craft. You knew that they'd kill Cara."

"Oh, I didn't just _know_ they'd kill Cara, Matthew…" He sighed, walking right up to me and whispering in my ear. "I _made sure_ they killed Cara." My heart raced as he stepped back, grinning inanely. He knew?! HE KNEW?!

"I expect this has all come as a bit of a shock." He continued, his expression more serious now. "Allow me to explain. You see, Matthew, I worked for Weyland-Yutani year in, year out, each as long as the last. I studied these creatures in such depth that there wasn't anything you could tell me about them that I didn't already know. But the pay I was getting? It was nothing. The contributions I made to that company, and for what? I lived in a hotel just down the road from the research centre. I survived on fast food and microwave meals. That was until I learned about the bounty hunters."

"Bounty hunters?" I enquired, intrigued by Ryan's tragic backstory.

"Yes," He replied, "bounty hunters. You see, we'd been having a difficult time with our research on account of the fact that so few Xenomorph specimens were being brought to us. Captive populations were so low that Weyland-Yutani decided to start hiring mercenaries to bring them live specimens. And let me tell you, Matthew, they were willing to pay a pretty penny."

I was beginning to understand now. Ryan had obviously seen the haul that the bounty hunters were bringing in, and wanted some of it for himself. After all, it was better than what they were paying him as a science officer.

"So you retired from Weyland-Yutani to become a contracted Xenomorph hunter?" I asked.

"That's right." He nodded, almost no emotion in his glassy eyes. "The SS Lockley-Lockley? The Hippopotomonstroses? The USCSS Copernicus? All ships that I've served on over the years. All ships that ran into Xenomorph-infested derelicts. The XH-12 presented a bit of a problem, though. Archie received the distress call not long before we went into hypersleep. I made sure he didn't tell the rest of you until we were less than a day away from the wreckage. That way, none of you could protest against going aboard." He was right, there. Off-World Association Regulations dictated that if a distressed vessel was within a day's journey of a passing ship, it was mandatory to provide help to said vessel.

"After I got you aboard, it was simple." He continued, each word more menacing than the last. "I just had to make sure that one of you got attacked by a Facehugger. The unlucky victim, of course, was Cara." He grinned villainously at this statement. I found myself quickly developing a deep-seated hatred for Ryan's true personality.

"Once you were back aboard the Archimedes, I made sure the Facehugger didn't cause too much panic amongst the crew." He explained. "As long as you all thought that Cara was fine, we'd have gone back into hypersleep by the end of the day."

"It was you, wasn't it?" I gasped, suddenly realising just how much Ryan had been hiding from us. "You told Archie to fake the scans. You tried to trick us into thinking that Cara was fine." He didn't reply to this, but continued to grin evilly.

"The twins were a bit of a shock, though." He eventually said, leaning against the wall with his arms folded once again. "I must admit, in all my years working at the research centre on Thedus, I never once encountered embryonic duplets. Seemingly, they were responsible for the shorter incubation period. Meaning-"

"Meaning she gave birth before you had a chance to dragoon us back into hypersleep." I interrupted.

"My, my, we are getting it now, aren't we, Matthew?" He chuckled. Then, his face suddenly stiffened. "But you listen to me, Jones: Money is one thing, but I don't have a death wish. Now that these things have been born prematurely, any hope of getting them back to Weyland-Yutani is gone. _You_ don't seem to understand that, though, do you?"

"What do you mean, I don't seem to understand?" I asked, still confused by what all this had to do with me.

"Look, Matthew." He sighed. "You may have pulled the wool over Alan and Nathan's eyes, but I know you're up to something. You've been defending these things the whole time, and the only reason I can think of for that is that _you_ were hoping to sell them to Weyland-Yutani, too. But I'm telling you, Matthew, you can't win this. It's too late. Either they die, or we die. The only way out is for us to kill them." I almost wanted to laugh at Ryan's stupidity. Did he seriously think that _I_ was only interested in selling the Xenomorphs for money? It was absurd. It was insane.

"Ryan," I said, as calmly as possible. "You've got it all wrong. I'm not-"

"For fuck's sake, Matthew!" He yelled erratically. "Stop playing the fool and admit that you've been defending these things!"

"I will do no such thing!" I replied, also raising my voice angrily. "And how DARE you speak to me like that!"

Ryan's face turned to a look of true anger now. His face was flushed red, his eyes glaring murderously. But I wasn't done yet.

"In fact, you know something, Goddard?" I shouted, walking over to the door and unlocking it swiftly. "I'm sure the others would love to know all about your little scheme. About how you deliberately cost the lives of _two crew members_!"

"Don't you dare." He said forcefully. He came towards me with clenched fists, sweat now running down his irate face. I hardly had time to react before it happened. He stepped forwards and raised one arm into the air, before bearing down with great force. Before I even knew what was going on, his knuckle made contact with my jaw. I stumbled, falling against the wall as he came in for another hit. Again and again, he punched relentlessly, until I collapsed to the floor, blood trickling from my mouth.

"You still going to tell the others?" He asked, leaning down to stare into my eyes. I was too weak to reply, although I tried desperately to move my body. He laughed, and gave me one last hard kick, before turning to leave the room.

"Don't worry, Matthew." He chuckled as he walked out. "I'm sure one of your Xenomorph friends will come along soon." And with that, he was gone, leaving the door wide open. Once again, I tried helplessly to get up, but found my body totally and utterly numb. All I could do was lie there, crying in pain, waiting for a Xenomorph to come along and kill me. So that's what I did. I lay there, and I wept, blood still pouring from my lip and my gums. It was barely a minute later that I began to lose consciousness. My eyelids felt heavy, and my brain felt tired. As I slowly began to drift away, the last thing I saw was a dark figure barge into the room, which came and crouched beside me. I didn't know if it was a person, a Xenomorph, good or bad, and frankly, at this point, I didn't care. I was unable to hold onto consciousness any longer, so I finally let myself slip away…


	23. XXIII

**XXIII**

My eyes felt heavy when I eventually awoke. I forced them open, only to discover that I was now laid comfortably in my bed. Without moving my head, I glanced around, wondering how I had gotten myself up here after losing consciousness on the floor. I attempted to roll over, but almost jumped into the air when my eyes locked with Xena. She was sat at the head-end of the bed, her head leaning over my own, staring down at me quietly. Presumably, she had been the one who had put me safely back in bed. It was somewhat unnerving, admittedly, but at the same time, oddly comforting.

"Xena…" I began, sitting up and getting myself out of bed. I clutched at my cheek as soon as I spoke, my jaw still numb from Ryan's punches. Xena simply watched me, smiling all the while. She was sat in my desk chair, although the bony spines jutting from her back pushed the backrest down so far that it had almost completely snapped off. I walked over to the desk, where the tray of food which Ryan had brought me still stood.

"Stone cold." I sighed, poking gingerly at the pork chop and roast potatoes which sat on the cheap plastic tray. That told me that I must have been out for at least an hour, although it could have just as well been four or five.

"Do you want this?" I asked, turning to Xena and handing her the tray. She didn't need to be told twice. Within a matter of mere seconds, she devoured the entire meal, leaving behind nothing but a drizzle of cold gravy.

"Jesus…" I chuckled, taking the tray back from her, slightly concerned that she might eat that, too. "Hungry, are you?" She smiled, nodding her head as she chewed. I was surprised that she hadn't eaten it while I was asleep, to be honest. It was nice to think that she'd actually been kind enough to save it for me, despite her own hunger. It was also nice to think that she'd been there to help me up where my human colleagues had failed to, and had even sat here with me whilst I came round, despite the fact that I had pushed her away after our last… encounter.

"I'm… sorry, by the way," I sighed, sitting down on the bed, still rubbing my injured jaw. "About earlier. I didn't mean to… I mean, you know that I… Look, the truth is, I pushed you away because I was frustrated. I was confused, panicked even. Obviously, something like this has never happened to me before." She looked down at the floor, apparently slightly upset.

"But it's okay, now…" I continued swiftly, attempting to lift her spirits. "After all this, I've realised how selfish I've been. I didn't even consider that… that you might have cared about me, too." Her frown hesitantly lifted to form a slight smile. She cocked her head to the side slightly, as if she couldn't quite comprehend what I was saying. I reached out an open hand to her, which she took gently. Perhaps now would have been the perfect moment for me to tell her how _I_ truly felt about _her_. I didn't, of course, because I had slightly more pressing things on my mind right now. My jaw still ached, my stomach rumbled, and Ryan's chilling words still buzzed in my head. No, for now, the emotional conversation would have to wait.

"Ryan planned this whole thing." I told Xena, getting up from the bed once again. "Us getting the XH-12's distress call, Cara being attacked by the Facehugger. It was all a plot for him to fill his wallet." Something dawned on me then, though. I realised that without Ryan's plan, Xena might never have existed. The XH-12's derelict escape shuttle could have drifted in space until the end of time, none of the Xenomorph eggs ever seeing the light of day. Because of Ryan, Cara was dead. The one woman I'd been closer too than any other I'd ever known. But by that same logic, because of Ryan's twisted scheme, Xena was alive.

"It's not too late, though." I continued, pushing the unsettling thought aside. "If I go to Alan now, I can tell him all about Ryan's plan. It'll be more than zero-level clearance for _him_ when we get back to Earth." I went to the door, pushing a button on the panel beside it. The door, though, stayed firmly closed. I pushed the button again, once more to no avail. I attempted several times to open the door, each as ineffective as the last. It was as if somebody had disabled the door control panel.

"Archie?" I called out, still furiously pushing the useless button. "Why can't I open the door?"

"With respect, sir, you _are_ currently under zero-level clearance." Archie replied politely.

"I know that." I snapped, frustrated. "But I opened the door earlier when Ryan came. Why can't I now?"

"First Technician Ryan Goddard has filed a complaint against you, sir." The calm-voiced mainframe replied. "Goddard checked into Science and Medical at 6:32 PM with minor facial injuries, including a bloody nose and a gash on the left cheek. He then proceeded to inform Senior Lieutenant Grike that you had assaulted him when he had taken you your evening meal." I could hardly believe my ears. Ryan had reported _me_? After he'd come in here and punched me?

"Come on, Archie." I pleaded desperately. "You know as well as I do that Ryan's lying. Have you seen _my_ face?" This was a foolish question, of course, since security cameras were not allowed to be placed inside a crew member's living quarters.

"I cannot see you at all, sir." Archie assured me. "However, I am aware of your injuries. I am also aware of the fact that First Technician Goddard did, indeed, physically abuse you."

"Well tell the others that, then!" I shouted, becoming impatient. "For fuck's sake, Archie, why haven't you said anything to them? Unless… wait a minute, has he told you to lie to them again? Just like you lied about Cara's medical scans?"

"No, sir." He replied, speaking as calmly as ever.

"Has he told you to lie about lying, too?" I asked, annoyed with Archie's blatantly obvious fabrication.  
"No, sir." He repeated, with exactly the same tone and pitch as before. It was at times like this when I really hated artificial intelligence. One little loophole and you could get them to cover up anything for you.

"So," I sighed, sitting down on the bed once more. "In other words, you're not going to let me out?"

"I'm afraid not, sir." Archie insisted. "You must remain in this room until such a time that the Archimedes returns to Earth." I wanted to punch somebody, I was so frustrated. How could Ryan do this to me? And more to the point, how could I tell the others about his true motives? About how he'd known what the Xenomorphs were capable of the whole time? It was at that moment that I suddenly remembered Xena. I looked over to my desk chair, upon which she still sat quietly.

"Looks like we're not leaving." I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. "Well, you can. I don't much fancy crawling through the air vents when your brother's still wandering around out there." She frowned when I labeled the other Xenomorph as her brother, but biologically speaking, it was true. Then again, by that logic, Cara was also her… mother, I guess? Look, I wasn't really in the mood to start writing up a family tree right now, okay?

Gazing up at the digital clock on the opposite wall of the room, I noticed that the time was actually already 10:37 at night. It seemed that I really had been 'out' for quite a while. Would the others even still be out searching at this time of night? Probably not, considering we'd given up at eight the night before. I let out a huge yawn, stretching my arms into the air in an exaggerated manner. Even if I had been unconscious for the last four hours, I was still tired. Besides, I had a lot to think about right now. How to tell the others about Ryan, how to keep Xena safely hidden. I still hadn't even begun to consider what I'd do if she was actually still alive by the time we reached Earth. I decided that for now, it was best to sleep on it. After all, I had the next sixteen months alone in this room to think about stuff like that.

"Look, Xena…" I began, afraid to upset the tender creature. "Thank you for helping me out today, I, uh… I appreciate it. But it's getting late, and I'm pretty tired. So… I'll see you in the morning?" She whimpered softly, clearly trying to take me on some kind of guilt trip. Regrettably, though, it worked. I just couldn't say 'no' to her, could I?

"Fine." I sighed, heading over to the light switch. "I suppose you can stay in here for the night. You can, I don't know, curl up on the floor or something, if you like. As long as you're quiet." I watched as her face brightened up once again. She smiled, and nodded silently, before slumping down from the desk chair and onto the warm, carpeted floor. I waited until she had lied down, then flicked the light off, before walking over to my own bed and climbing in. As I lay there, I heard the quiet shuffling of Xena as she made herself comfortable on the floor behind me. Once again, I found myself at a moral crossroads. I felt bad making her sleep on the floor like some kind of animal, but I couldn't just invite her to share a bed with me, now could I?

"Goodnight, Xena." I whispered, to which she replied with a gentle 'grunt' of agreement. Then, I said something else. Something which I think I had know for quite some time now, but which up until just a few minutes ago, I had never fully accepted. Something which I had said to very few people before, and which I'd probably say to very few again.

"Xena?" I began. She made a sort of 'hmm?' sound, as if to say 'I'm trying to sleep, for God's sake, what do you want?'

"I… I love you." I finished. Then, I closed my eyes, and drifted peacefully to sleep.


	24. XXIV

**XXIV**

*NOTE – Hello everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and here I am once again, bringing you a fresh, new chapter of 'Xena'. It's hard to believe that we're within the story's final quarter already, isn't it? But we are, and I have to say, it's been a hell of an experience. As I am writing this, 'Xena' has officially amassed over 14,000 views, with people from over 40 countries coming along to read! So, all I can say really, is 'thanks'. Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing and enjoying the story so far, and please, _please_ , stay tuned over the coming weeks as _this_ tale draws to its end…

Anyway, that's all from me on this one. Before I go, I should give you a quick heads-up: The chapter that you are about to read is the _only_ one in the entire story which does _not_ take place through the eyes of Matthew. In fact, it doesn't take place through the eyes of anyone. It's in the third person. Don't panic, though. All will be revealed as you read on and enjoy. It's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

Silence filled the air in the briefing room as the morning began to draw in. The long, slender arm of the white analogue clock above the doorway crawled its way up to twelve, thereby marking the passing of another hour. Eight o'clock was the hour in question, and once that threshold had been crossed, the room was destined to remain silent for all of five minutes. After that, the crew would arrive, bustling into the room loudly, ready to face another day. The first to break the silence of the room was Nathan. At precisely 8:05 he came in, his heavy, steel toe-capped boots thudding noisily against the cold metal floor. He slotted his timecard into the reader by the door, then slumped down in a chair beside the room's central table. The next to arrive was Alan, who bumbled through the doorway at 8:09, gun in hand (quite literally). He took a seat beside Nathan and the two immediately began to chatter. This continued until finally, at 8:14, Ryan entered the room, his face still bruised from the previous night's dust-up. He took a seat opposite his fellow crew members, and at last, the crew were ready to begin.

"Ok, people." Alan commanded, his demeanor somewhat more optimistic than usual. "Today's the day. We find these things, and we finish them off. No questions asked. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Nathan and Alan replied in unison. After all that they had been through so far, they were just as eager as Alan to bring this whole sorry affair to an end. Whether they'd get the end they were hoping for, though, remained to be seen.

"So how do we do it?" Nathan asked, leaning back in his chair, arms folded. "And how can we be sure that it'll work?"

"Look," Alan replied, calmly. "If we can corner one like we did yesterday, we can bring it down with a single shot."

"And since Matthew's not here…" Ryan began, feeling the side of his jaw, where he had been injured the night before.

"…There's no risk of him putting our mission at stake." Alan finished, nodding as he looked over at his remaining colleagues. "So: are we ready to go?"

A few minutes later, the groundwork had been laid. Alan, Ryan and Nathan had devised a plan with which they were sure to corner and eliminate the Xenomorph threat. Now, they stood by the door, the latter two awaiting the signal of the former. For a few moments, they simply stood there, each man secretly as unwilling to advance as the others. But finally, after several long seconds, Alan gave his fellow crewmates 'the nod'. With that, the three men stepped out into the corridor, toting their weapons, ready to fire at whatever crossed their path. Although they had a clear-cut mission in mind, each of them knew that the chances of everything running smoothly were slim. This was undoubtedly the reason that they crept along at a snail's pace, flinching at every little ambient noise which resounded through the empty corridors. They now numbered just three, after all. What chance did they stand if both Xenomorphs decided to come for them in a full frontal attack?

After a while, the procession reached the engine bay. Cautiously, they stepped across the latticed-metal gangway, which thankfully had lost the electrical influence which had been bestowed upon it by Ryan's energy-burst cannon the previous night. As they trod noisily along the thick iron grating, though, a faint noise echoed through the vast chamber. The sound in question was similar to that of low breathing, somewhat laboured, perhaps. The first of the crew to pick up on the noise was Alan.

"Can you hear that?" He whispered to the others, although he continued to walk on as he spoke.

"What is it?" Ryan asked, foolishly, although by this point, of course, you will understand that he actually knew full well what 'it' was. Nevertheless, it did not take long for the others to click, and the realisation soon hit them that they were not alone…

"What shall we do?" Nathan asked, keeping his voice as low as possible, so as not to arouse the suspicion of the nearby alien.

"Ready your weapons." Alan replied, struggling to cock the barrel of his own device. "Now back away. Slowly." The trio then quietly edged themselves backwards, making their way back out into the brightly-lit corridor. The breathing moved towards them, accompanied by light footsteps. This didn't bother them, though. As long as they could coax the creature out of the engine bay, they could happily open fire with little consequence. Soon, all three men had retreated to the apparent 'safety' of the corridor. The dying noise from the engine bay told them that the creature had lost interest. All they had to do now was get its attention, and, if everything went according to plan, it would come for them. That was when they would strike.

"Ready?" Alan whispered, as the trio continued to step slowly backwards down the corridor. The others simply nodded, both of them with looks of sheer determination on their faces. Alan was the first to raise his weapon, pointing it right at the door to the engine bay. Ryan did the same, his barrel trained on the ground just in front of the door. Finally, Nathan directed his sight towards a spot on the ground not far in front of the group. With the three men ready to attack from all angles, it was go-time.

"Ok, here goes nothing…" Alan announced, clearing his throat before he continued.

"HELLO?" He shouted, almost at the top of his lungs. For a couple of seconds after that, everything was silent. But then, sure enough, the sound of rapid footsteps heading in their direction heralded the successful setting of their plan in motion.

It took little more than five seconds before the Xenomorph had forced its way through the engine bay door. It roared an ungodly roar as it locked eyes on the men (figuratively, of course), and within an instant, it began to power its way down the corridor towards them. This time, though, the three men were ready. This time, they _would_ kill this thing, they were sure of it. In fact, before the Xenomorph had crossed even half the distance between the engine bay door and them, they had opened fire. Sparks flew everywhere. Bolts of bright white light streaked across the corridor and made sharp contact with the approaching creature. It lurched backwards in pain as huge strands of lightning-like electricity smashed against its thick exoskeleton. The three men were still not satisfied, though. They would not rest until they were _absolutely sure_ that this alien was dead. Again and again they fired, each shot pushing the creature back slightly further. It screeched and howled, overcome with the sheer force of electricity being exerted upon it. Louder and louder it wailed, until finally, it fell, silent and lifeless on the floor.

"Did we… kill it?" Alan asked, reluctant to believe that they had truly triumphed over the creature at last. Nathan was bold enough to approach the unmoving Xenomorph, crouching by its side to observe its condition. It lay perfectly still, curled up on the floor, mouth agape. Even when Nathan reached out to touch the creature's cold, bony body, it did not move. Not even so much as a reflex action. They had done it. They had really done it, at last.

"It's dead." Nathan confirmed, his eyes welling up with tears of joy. "It's dead!" He shouted cheerfully, punching a hand into the air. Ryan and Alan shared in his excitement, rejoicing in the knowledge that they had managed to overcome one of the most formidable creatures imaginable. Sure, there was still another one at large somewhere on the ship. But hey: they were one step closer to saving the Archimedes from its untimely fate. And considering how much time they had spent trying to track just one of these creatures down in the first place, they were more than content with the result they had achieved.

"Goddard, can you get this thing into that airlock?" Alan asked, gesturing towards a door just a few metres away from where the lifeless alien lay. "Best we get rid of it for good, eh?"

"Can do, sir." Ryan nodded, already heading over to the Xenomorph corpse, ready to drag it away once and for all.

"Smith, you'd better go and tell Jones the good news." Alan continued, still trying to contain his own delight. Nathan agreed, and eagerly set off towards the stairwell. Meanwhile, Alan started issuing commands to Archie, telling him to prepare the airlock so they could jettison the body. Couldn't have a dead Xenomorph cluttering up the place, now could they? Plus, once this one had been safely taken care of, the trio could soon direct their attention towards the _other_ killer aboard the ship.

Nathan raced down the stairway as he journeyed towards Matthew's quarters. Surely, Matthew could do with cheering up, given the fact that he was currently under zero-level clearance, couldn't he? Surely it would be the best news he'd heard all week, wouldn't it? Either way, Nathan found himself so desperate to tell someone the great news that he didn't care at all how they'd take it. Not that there was any other way _to_ take it, or course. They'd just neutralised a dangerous, killer alien. How could anyone _not_ see that as good news? Anyway, there was no more time for Nathan to think about this now, as he had reached Matthew's quarters. He hammered on the door eagerly, not caring at all that the other Xenomorph may still have been lurking nearby. When there was no reply, he pushed the release mechanism button on the front of the door, and it slid open.

"Matthew," Nathan began chirpily, before the door had even fully opened. "You'll never believe this. We killed one! We actually…" But then, he stopped, trailing off mid-sentence. 'Why did he stop?', I hear you ask. He stopped, my friends, for he saw something then. Something… unexpected. Something that would have made any man fall silent.


	25. XXV

**XXV**

*NOTE – Hello everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and here I am again with another chapter of 'Xena'. I have to say, the last chapter was definitely one of the most mixed in terms of it's reception, but I can see that the cliffhanger left you all in suspense (that _is_ the idea of a cliffhanger, after all). Anyway, I don't want to keep any of you waiting any longer, so here it is! I hope it's everything that I built it up to be. If not, don't hesitate to let me know what a cock-up I've made of it! Just remember that we're now back in the eyes of Matthew (this chapter happens simultaneously with Chapter XXIV). Now read on, and as always, enjoy. It's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

Darkness filled the room as I slowly opened my tired eyes. I wasn't sure what time it was, but it felt early. I could feel Xena's heavy body pushing down on me in the bed, her head hanging over my own. But it was a strangely comfortable sensation, so for a few moments, I simply embraced it. Soon, though, I realised that I would have to at least _check_ what time it was. I rolled over slowly, heaving Xena's heavy head to one side. As I slid my arm from under her, she sighed happily, stirring a little as she tried to find a comfortable position. I stroked the top of her head gently, ushering her back to sleep. Then, I reached over to a small lamp by the side of the bed, and flicked it on. The room was suddenly swallowed up by the beaming shaft of light which shot across the room from the powerful lamp.

"Archie?" I whispered, squinting in the bewildering light. "What time is it?"

"The time is-" He began, his voice bellowing compared to my own hushed tone.

"For God's sake Archie, keep it down!" I snapped. "Can't you see she's asleep?" I pointed to Xena, who still slept heavily.

"Apologies, sir." Archie replied, in a much quieter voice. "The time is 1:27 AM."

"Oh, is that it?" I remarked, rolling my eyes. "In that case, I'm going back to bed." And with that, I flicked the tiny bedside light off, and turned back over to put my arms around Xena. I pushed myself right up close to her, my head leaned against her own. I closed my eyes, and found myself drifting back to sleep once again. And then…

"No…" I whispered, so quietly that it was almost inaudible. My eyes whipped open as I suddenly realised what was going on. I was in bed with Xena. I'd _spent the night_ with Xena. I was still hugging her right now, for crying out loud! 'Ok, Matthew,' I told myself. 'Just calm down. I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent explanation for this...'

"Archie…" I began, quietly pushing myself away from her once again. "What exactly happened last night?"

"I'm sorry, sir." Archie replied. "But as we discussed earlier, I do not record video footage of any crew member's quarters."

"No, I know you can't _see_ us, in the typical sense of the word." I asked, sighing. "But don't you have all sorts of scanners, and sensors, an- Look, can you please just tell me what happened last night, Archie?!"

"Very well, sir." He said plainly. "At 10:41 PM, there was a noticeable fall in your heart rate. This was most likely due to you falling asleep. At 10:46, a second life sign appeared in the bed behind you, before it's own heart rate reading fell at 10:49."

"Ok…" I said, nodding. All good so far. "Did either of our heart rates, you know… rise again during the night?"

"No, sir." Archie replied. "The only recorded rise in heart rate was when you awoke just now. It also rose significantly approximately two minutes ago, probably after you discovered that there was another life form in the bed with you."

"Too right." I sighed, placing a hand over my chest. A wave of relief washed over me. If neither of our heart rates had risen during the night, then that meant we hadn't… done anything. All Xena and I had done that night was sleep together (in the literal sense of the word). Nothing more, nothing less. Even so, it felt so strange. To think that I had actually spent the night with Xena right beside me. It felt… kind of nice, actually. I mean, I loved her, of course. I'd told her that already. Why shouldn't I have spent the night with her? It's not like anyone was going to find out, was it? Was it?

As I looked over at Xena once more, still sleeping peacefully despite everything, it occurred to me how little I'd really thought about me and her. Not once had I ever said to myself: 'What happens if we really do make it back to Earth?' 'What happens if we're still together in a few months, a few years even?' 'What if she wants… _kids_?!' And now, the more that I thought about subjects like this, the less I could see the two of us together. We came from different worlds. Literally. You couldn't find two more different creatures if you tried. And yet, we worked so well together. I loved her, and she loved me, and if the world didn't accept that, then… then… and that was where the barrier lay.

If the world didn't accept us, then what could we do? How could we go on like this? I honestly didn't know. Besides, I was too tired to think about shit like that right now. It could at least wait until the morning. I gazed at the clock, then back at the bed, then at Xena. It'd be several hours before it was time for me to actually get up. And she was here now, sound asleep, wasn't she? So I thought to myself, then: 'Fuck it. I've come this far.' I laid down beside Xena, thrusting my arms around her in a tight embrace. She nuzzled her head against mine, sighing happily once more. That was when I realised: I didn't really care. I didn't care what the world might think about me and Xena. This was _love_ we were talking about, here. If things didn't work, we'd _make_ them work. If things weren't right, we'd _make_ them right. I fell back to sleep quite happily that morning, as though some great burden had been lifted from my shoulders. For now, I knew that what I had with Xena? It was real. It was true.

It was half past eight by the time I awoke again. Xena was already up, sat in my desk chair once again. She wasn't doing anything, just sitting there. I wondered how long she'd been waiting for me to wake up.

"Morning." I smiled, stretching my arms out as I got out of bed. Of course, she didn't reply, not with words at least, but she did smile back happily. Clearly, she had no recollection of what had happened earlier. After all, she'd been asleep the whole time.

"I was thinking last night, you know." I told her. I walked over to my desk and pulled out my timecard. "About you and me. About how _we_ , by which I mean _you_ , are going to survive this whole debacle." Xena cocked her head to the side slightly, confused by what exactly I was getting at. I held my timecard up in front of her, pointing to the text printed on the front.

"See this?" I asked, brandishing the card at arm's length. "Of course you can't. Sorry. The point is, it's a timecard. A symbol of my position aboard this ship. A symbol of my role as a member of Ashbridge Industries International." Xena nodded, although it was clear that she was not quite on the same page as I was.

"Let me make this simple." I continued. "This timecard is a physical representation of the stranglehold that Ashbridge Industries has on me. All the rules, the regulations, the 'appropriate conduct'. Well you know what?" I grabbed the card with both hands, and pulled until the card separated into two rough halves, torn down the middle.

"Fuck them." I finished. "If you're not welcome aboard this ship, then let's leave." At first, the look on Xena's face was one of uncertainty, like she didn't have much faith in my idea.

"Think about it, Xena." I explained. "We can't stay here anymore; not now. And we can't go back to Earth, can we? So let's go. Me and you. We'll take Syracusia 1 and leave, go somewhere else. Somewhere where they'll accept you for what you are." After hearing me put it like this, her expression perked up. She smiled, before pointing to herself as if to say 'You'd really do that for me?' I nodded back at her, as if to say 'Of course I would'. Then, I reached an arm out towards her, which she took with her own. I pulled her up out of her seat and tugged her closer to me. We placed our arms around each other now as if it were second nature. After all this time, we finally had a plan. We were going to escape.

After a few moments in each others' arms, I leaned back slightly, returning my gaze to Xena's face. I fell silent, as did she, as the two of us simply soaked in one another's presence. Then, I felt a compelling force driving me closer to her once more. I knew what was about to happen, and I wasn't going to resist it this time. I let myself go to her, and once again, I found myself locked in a kiss. It wasn't heat of the moment. It wasn't for the sake of it. It was because I genuinely wanted to. I wanted to kiss her, because I loved her. There was nothing in my life I'd ever been more sure of.

As Xena and I continued to revel in our warm embrace, there was a sudden knock at the door. I pushed it to the back of my mind, far too concentrated on our kiss. The knocking continued, and still we ignored it, too caught up in the moment.

"Matthew, you'll never believe this!" Nathan's voice called. Somewhere in my mind, an alarm bell was ringing, telling me to stop before it was too late. But then…

"We killed one!" Nathan shouted gleefully, finally pushing his way through the door. "We actually…" His voice trailed off at the sight before him. All of a sudden, the alarm bell in my mind reached full volume. I realised what I was doing. That Nathan was watching, and I was still going. And _then_ , and only then, did I finally stop.


	26. XXVI

**XXVI**

*NOTE – Hello everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos, back once more with another chapter of 'Xena'. I've been pretty busy this week, so I apologise for the fact that this chapter's a little more delayed than usual. Of course, you won't notice the delay if you're reading this in, I don't know, 2019 or something. If you _are_ reading this in 2019, by the way, then I'd like to give you a huge thank you for sticking with the story for an impressive _three years_! Meanwhile, for those of you reading this in 2016, I apologise for the delay, and for that little tangent. And I apologise for wasting your time with this apology. I'll stop now. Or now. Or now. Anyway, I won't keep you any longer. Read on, and _of course_ , enjoy. It's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

The silence that followed was… awkward, to say the least. Thankfully, it was also understandably brief. Less than a few seconds, all told. Nathan looked on in shock and horror at the sight before him. I tried to put myself in his shoes for a moment; to know and understand what was going through his mind right now. Unfortunately, it wasn't good. I knew that this time I had truly overstepped the mark. There was no way in this world, no way in this _galaxy_ , even, that I could explain my way out of this one. Nathan had seen too much to accept any possible excuse I could offer. So what the fuck was I going to do?

"Nathan…" I started slowly, cautiously taking a step towards the awe-struck man. "Before you-" But before I could even finish my sentence, Nathan had vanished. He bolted off down the corridor like a shot, presumably to get the others.

"Nathan!" I shouted, running out into the corridor to try and stop him. But it was far too late for that. By the time I reached the doorway, he was long gone.

"Bollocks!" I exclaimed. I looked back into my room, where Xena was still rooted to the spot. She appeared confused, and worried, and somewhat regretful, although of course I was equally at fault for what had happened. Even so, now was not the time for bandying blame around. Now was the time for action, and fast.

"Come on," I began, dashing back into the room and grabbing Xena by the arm. "We're leaving." At this point in time, I was hardly thinking straight. I hadn't considered what we'd do _after_ we escaped: What we'd eat, where we'd go. But right now, there was no timeto think. Right now, we had to leave. As soon as Nathan told Alan and Ryan, they'd be on us in a flash. And then, they'd kill _both_ of us. Luckily, Xena didn't need to be told twice. As soon as I announced our departure, she bolted out of the room, dragging me along with her, as I still had my hand around her arm.

"Jesus Christ, Xena, slow down!" I yelled, my back scraping against the cold metal floor as she pulled me along. As soon as I said this, she stopped immediately, but sadly, I didn't, and continued to slide along the floor until my head made sharp contact with a wall. The pain was reasonably excruciating, but I didn't have time to recover right now, so I got back to my feet.

"Look, Xena," I began, rubbing the top of my head. "Clearly your 'run' and my 'run' are two very different 'runs'. So perhaps it'd be better if I led the way, alright?" She nodded apologetically, and I sympathetically placed a hand on her shoulder. But alas, we had to press on. No doubt Nathan had already reached the others by now. It was only a matter of time before they tracked us down, and then we _were_ done for.

Gathering my bearings, I quickly assessed the choice of routes available to us. I established that the quickest and safest way to go would be through the engine bay, up the steps of the maintenance gangway, down one of the upstairs corridors and into a Syracusia escape craft. Without any further hesitation, I set off down the corridor, with Xena following close behind. I opted for a slower approach than she did, preferring stealth over speed, but even so we moved at a fair pace. Before long, we reached the heavy door which led into the lower engine bay. I pushed the button on the adjacent wall, but found that nothing happened. I pushed the button again, only to achieve the same result. Then, I suddenly realised that getting upstairs and escaping the ship might be harder than I'd first thought…

"Uh, slight problem." I told Xena. "I forgot that my door privileges have been revoked." She shot me an annoyed expression, apparently thinking that I should have been intelligent enough to have considered something like this happening in the first place. I smiled gingerly, shrugging my shoulders. But in all seriousness, we now had to come up with another means of escape. And fast. I looked around the thin corridor, hurriedly trying to think of a way to get upstairs without using any doors. My eyes fell to a small ventilation hatch on the wall. Now, I was no engineer by any means, but I knew that all the air ducts aboard the ship were linked, so there had to be a way to get to the upper floor through the vents. It wasn't the most dignified means of escape possible, of course. Crawling through a maze of claustrophobia-inducing shafts and tunnels. But hey: If it was good enough for Brad, it was good enough for us. We were in a pretty tight spot, after all.

"In there." I said, pointing to the hatch, although Xena was already one step ahead. She crouched down by the fine-toothed aperture, already rearing to go as I walked over to join her. I gazed down at the sealed portal, reaching out a hand in an attempt to pry back one of the spindly metal teeth. Eventually, the resilient metal began to loosen up, and soon relented, sliding away into the wall. The other pieces immediately followed, and the aperture opened up.

"Ladies first…" I remarked, gesturing to Xena to go ahead. She clambered into the tiny shaft, a tight squeeze indeed considering that she was a good eight feet tall and perhaps three feet wide, shoulder-to-shoulder. I quickly crawled in after her, and even I felt cramped in the narrow duct, although considerably less so than she probably was.

"Right." I said, looking around the dark shaft. The light coming from the corridor through the open hatch provided a dim glow of light, which revealed that the duct continued in either direction.

"This way." I told Xena, pointing in the direction of the front of the ship. Then, I began to move slowly through the narrow tunnel, pulling myself along on all fours. I heard Xena doing the same behind me, her tail scraping loudly against the cold metal floor as we moved. As it turned out, taking the vents might not have been as stealthy an idea as I first thought. But, it _was_ still the only way to get upstairs without using any doors, so… beggars can't be choosers, I guess.

For the next few minutes, Xena and I crawled along through the ventilation shafts without so much as a single word exchanged between us. The labyrinth of tunnels continued to twist and turn for what seemed like ages, barely inclining less than a few degrees. Eventually, we did reach a vertical shaft, which, after a long struggle, we both managed to scale, and at last found ourselves on the upper deck of the ship. Well, under the floor of the upper deck of the ship, to be exact. We couldn't be far from the shuttlecraft docks by now. The question was: How far were the others from the shuttlecraft docks? If we didn't make it aboard a craft before they caught up with us… it didn't bare thinking about what they'd do. To me. To Xena. It was too late now for explanations, of course. Perhaps if I'd told the crew everything from the outset, they'd have come to accept it. But what had I done instead? I'd lied to them, deceived them. In some ways, I was no better than Ryan: a manipulative conman who covered up the truth. And now, thanks to me, here we were. Running (or crawling, in this case) for our very lives.

After another five minutes or so, we finally reached our destination. At least, I thought it was our destination. Throughout our claustrophobic journey along the ship's air circulation system, I'd been mentally mapping our position on the ship. As far as I could tell, the hatch that Xena and I were now crouched under was the one just in front of Archie's control hub. The same one that I'd climbed up yesterday when I'd followed the trail of blood Bradley had left in the vents. The same one, therefore, that Bradley had been ragged through by the other Xenomorph on the day that he died. From the thin shafts of light which shined through the gaps in the corners of the hatch above, I could just make out faint blotches of dried blood on the walls of the tunnel, which only confirmed that this _was_ the hatch we were looking for.

"Ok, Xena, this is it." I whispered, reaching up to grab the handles on the underside of the hatch. "All we need to do is get from here to one of the shuttlecraft bays. After that, we're clear. Then we can start worrying about where we're actually going to go. Got it?" She might have nodded at this point; she might have not. It was too dark to be able to tell. Regardless, we didn't have time to discuss it any further. We had to move. Tightening my grip on the handles above my head, I pulled back hard, until the hatch flew open, light pouring into the vent from the corridor above. I hoisted myself up, then turned back to help Xena. She clambered out on all fours, slowly getting to her feet as I looked around to see that the coast was clear.

"Alright?" I asked, looking back at Xena, who now stood at full height. She nodded back at me, eager to keep moving. I turned in the direction of the port-side corridor, which led to the Syracusia 1 Shuttlecraft Bay. But no sooner than I had taken a single step forward, I heard a sound that stopped me dead in my tracks. It was the sound of a gun being cocked.

"Going somewhere, Matthew?" Alan called out. I looked down the central corridor behind us, and saw him and Nathan standing, guns in hand, less than a few metres away from Xena and myself. Nathan had a look of sheer disappointment on his face. Alan's was more a look of anger. I noticed a distinct lack of ex-Weyland-Yutani scientists in the group, though, although at this point, I was kind of relieved to have only two people pointing their guns at me rather than three.

"Now, then…" Alan continued, lifting the gun higher with his remaining arm. "You'll stay right where you are…"


	27. XXVII

**XXVII**

*NOTE – The end is near, people. That's right, after just under three months, 'Xena' is already coming to an end. I'm TheManFromMudos, and today I bring you all the latest chapter of Matthew and Xena's tale. We are now just four chapters away from the end of the story. That's right; there are only _four_ chapters to go (for _this_ installment, at least, if you catch my drift). Anyway, I won't talk your ears off this time like I usually do. Instead, I'll just let you get right into it. So read on, and by all means, enjoy. It's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

For several moments, I dared not speak a word. I barely dared to breathe, fearing that Alan and Nathan might open fire on me.

"Well, Jones?" Alan eventually asked, breaking the awkward silence of the corridor. "Care to explain yourself?"

"I… well, she… and Ryan…" I tried desperately, stumbling over my words as I spoke.

"Smith here tells me you've been… doing things with this creature." Alan continued "Is this true?"

"Well…" I began meagerly. "Doing 'things' is a very broad-"

"I hope you'll bear in mind, Jones, that I have a loaded weapon right now." He interrupted. "And very little patience with you. Now I'll ask you again: Is it true that you have been harboring this Xenomorph in your quarters?"

I looked down at the floor, my heart racing and my head pounding. There was no way out of this now. It had to come clean. I glanced at Xena, who was still rooted to the spot behind me, and gave her a small nod. She nodded back, a comforting and reassuring smile on her face. 'It's time', I thought to myself, looking back to the others. 'Time to tell them the truth."

"Yes." I told Alan, as confidently as I could muster. "Yes, I have been keeping… this Xenomorph safe in my quarters."

"May I ask why?" He pressed. "Is it as Goddard suspected? Are you a sympathiser? Or is it something even worse?"

"I-I'm… I'm a sympathiser." I nodded, tensing up, prepared for the shots to start flying. After a second or two, none did, so I decided that before Alan and Nathan killed me, I should at least explain to them _why_ I was a sympathiser.

"There's a word, you know, which springs to mind here." I continued, starting to feel slightly less afraid of the two fully-armed men. "It's 'xenophobia'. Commonly compared with racism, although there are slight differences. Xenophobia refers to an irrational fear or hatred of people who are of different cultural origin or ethnicity to the observer. In essence, it's a dislike of people who are _different_. White people to black people. Earth-born citizens to those born on Luna. Now, of course, when it comes to humans disliking animals, that's a different subject altogether. It's called zoophobia, as a matter of fact. But it's all the same thing at the end of the day, isn't it? And to be honest, I don't think that there's ever been a more appropriate time to use the word 'Xenophobe'." I know it was a cheap pun, but my life was on the line here, it was the best I could manage.

"What are you saying, Jones?" Alan asked, although I was pretty sure that he'd already got the gist of it. "Are you seriously trying to compare that thing to a human? Trying to compare us to racists?"

"In a nutshell, yes." I nodded. "And perhaps you might think that's out of line. You might think that me trying to say that such a creature is 'human' is unspeakable. And you'd be right. Because Xena's not a human. She can't talk, or read, or write like we can. She doesn't have a job, or a home, or any of the things that you might expect a typical human to have. To say that she's a human when quite clearly she isn't would be absurd."

"So what are you trying to say?" Nathan enquired, the first I'd heard him speak since his arrival.

"What I'm trying to say…" I murmured, still a little unsure of what I _was_ trying to say. "What I'm trying to say is that there's a difference between being _human_ and being _a human_. And I'm telling you that Xena is _human_. She doesn't have two eyes, two ears and hair on the top of her head. But she can think and feel. She can display human emotion; happiness, curiosity, fear." I looked over at Xena once again, even now losing myself in her blind gaze.

"Compassion." I continued. "But you don't see that, do you? Because you're xenophobic, zoophobic, whatever you want to call it. 'If one Xenomorph's a killer, they're all killers', right? Just like 'all Americans are fat', and 'all Frenchmen are drunkards', and 'all people from Luna are less intelligent than people from Earth'. Isn't that right?"

"I can assure you that this is _not_ the same thing at all, Jones." Alan insisted, looking at Xena sourly. "'Xena', as you so affectionately describe that thing, is a creature of instinct, as is any other of its kind. It is a cold-hearted killer, Jones. It is _nothing_ more. _DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME_?!"

"You're wrong!" I shouted angrily. All of a sudden, I didn't care if he and Nathan were both pointing their guns at me. I was irate now, frustrated at their ignorance. And so help me, God, I was going to make a point of it.

"You're wrong." I repeated. Alan and Nathan fell silent, shocked by my outburst. "She's not a killer. If she was, I'd be dead by now. She's a peaceful, considerate and gentle creature, and… and I love her."

"I've heard enough of this." Alan said bluntly. How could he still not believe me? I thought I'd done the right thing, finally telling them the truth about Xena. Yet even now, they refused to accept her. How could anyone be _so_ _fucking ignorant_?

"Jones, I will ask you this only once." He continued, fiddling around with his gun as he spoke. "Will you stand aside and allow us to open fire on this creature?"

"No." I replied sternly. "I won't." I reached out a hand to Xena slowly. She took it with her own, squeezing my palm gently. I smiled at her sadly, some part of me dreading the inevitability that was her death. But I refused to let her go down alone.

"Very well." Alan nodded. "You have made your choice. May I just say how unfortunate it will be to see you go."

Lifting his gun up to rest upon the stump of what was once his left arm, Alan turned to Nathan.

"Prepare your weapon, Smith." He told his fellow officer, although a look of shock covered Nathan's face.

"But sir, we can't…" He tried, obviously at a moral crossroads on whether he should shoot his fellow crewman or not.

"I said _prepare your weapon_ , Smith." Alan demanded. Although reluctant, Nathan finally agreed. He lifted his own gun and pointed it in my direction.

"Alan…" I pleaded, beginning to fear what I knew was to come. "I know we've had our differences in the past, but you don't really want to shoot me, do you?"

"Ready…" Alan said bitterly, completely ignoring my plea. He and Nathan quickly released the bolts on their weapons.

"Alan, please," I continued, my voice now filled with anxiety. "Look at her. She's harmless, I swear. Do you honestly think I'd still be standing here if she wanted to kill me?"

"Take aim…" He continued, him and Nathan lowering their heads towards the sights of their guns. I knew now that all hope of survival was lost. All it took now was one little word. All it took was for Alan to say 'fire'. Then we were both as good as dead. I glanced at Xena one last time. I wanted to apologise, for putting her through all of this. Perhaps it would have been more merciful if I'd simply let them kill her the first time they ran into her. Tears welled up in my eyes as she gazed back at me, her smile now replaced with nothing more than an expressionless frown. But do you know what? I couldn't think of anyone else that I'd have rather spent my final moments with. At least this way, we'd go together.

"Do we fire yet?" Nathan asked after a couple of moments. Alan's gun shook in his hand as he stood there, aiming in silence.

"No." He eventually replied. "Lower your weapon, Smith." He dropped his own gun, which clattered to the ground loudly. Nathan kept his gun in his hands, but aimed the barrel towards the ground. His expression was almost unreadable, but somewhere in there, I could tell that he was relieved he didn't have to kill me. Even so, it was nothing compared to the relief I was feeling right now. I was still in shock, truth be told, that Alan had actually decided to spare my life.

"Alan, I-" I began, but before I could continue, he interrupted.

"Now you listen here, Jones," He began solemnly. "I can't even _begin_ to describe how many OWA regulations you've broken by keeping this creature hidden from the rest of the crew. Nevertheless, given recent events, I believe that what you have told us is true. This particular Xenomorph is clearly not killer material. But that still doesn't mean she has any rights as a human crew member upon this vessel, and she'll certainly not be accepted on Earth. So here's what you're going to do: You're going to take Syracusia 1, fly as far away from this ship as possible, and never darken our doorways again. Either of you. Do I make myself clear?"

"You do." I nodded. "Thank you, sir." And perhaps for the first time since I'd met him, I respected Alan for his decision. For the first time since I'd met him, he had respected me as his equal. And for that, I'd always be grateful.

"Come on, Xena." I beamed, taking my Xenomorph counterpart by the hand once again. She beamed back, her face lit up with happiness. I turned in the direction of the Syracusia 1 dock, and was just about to take a step forward when…

"Stop. Right. There." Came a voice from behind me, and at this point in the story, I hope you don't need to be told who it was.


	28. XXVIII

**XXVIII**

*NOTE – Hello everybody, it's me, TheManFromMudos, and here I am again with another jaw-dropping chapter of 'Xena'. Before we begin, I'd just like to say how pleased I am that the story recently reached _twenty thousand_ views! An incredible feat, indeed. That being said, the story's not going to finish itself, so here we go. Oh, and whilst I'm here, I'd also like to warn you, before you begin this chapter, that you might not like what you read. Please, no abusive reviews or messages. Just have faith in me as an author, and trust that everything will work out in the end. Read on and enjoy. It's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

"Now, turn around. Slowly." Ryan said quietly, his voice shaky and distressed. I was pretty certain that he had a gun pointed at me right now, so I thought it best to obey. Taking a deep breath, I carefully rotated on the spot, turning to face the irate man. Sure enough, he had an energy burst cannon aimed right at me. He was breathing rapidly, sweat running down his face, which was still bloodied and bruised from earlier. He glared menacingly at me and Xena, neither one of us daring to move. Even Nathan and Alan had fallen silent by this point, shocked by Ryan's unexpected arrival.

"Well, well, well…" Ryan continued, edging forwards slowly as he spoke. "I must admit, Matthew, I never really expected it to end this way between us. But you leave me no choice. Clearly it's going to take a little more than a punch to the face to make you see sense."

"A punch to the f- What exactly is going on here, Goddard?" Alan snapped, albeit in a noticeably cautious tone.

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know, Alan?" Ryan quipped sarcastically. "You clueless, pig-headed fuckwit." Alan's face went red with anger. Never before had Ryan addressed his commanding officer in such a way. Even so, Alan knew better than to provoke Ryan any further, so he refused to dignify the insult with a response.

"You don't honestly think that poor, innocent Matthew here would lay a finger on another crew member for no good reason, do you?" Ryan continued, turning back to me and Xena. "I think you'll find that the situation was very much the other way round…" He grinned sinisterly as he spoke, and glared disconcertingly with his yellowed, bloodshot eyes.

"Ryan, listen to me." I tried, being sure to keep my distance from him as I spoke. "I-"

"No, _you_ listen to _me_ , Matthew." He interrupted, his expression transforming into a dark grimace. "I've studied these Xenomorphs for the best part of two decades, you understand me? And no matter what you think is 'fair' and 'just', no matter how much capacity for emotion you may believe these things have, they are _killers_. Plain and simple."

"Ryan, please," I pleaded desperately. "You've got it all wrong. I know that you've spent your whole life seeing Xenomorphs killing humans. Cold-blooded murderers with no sense of mercy. But Xena's different, I swear. She's-"

"She's one of them!" Ryan yelled angrily. "And that's all there is to it!" He glanced over at Alan and Nathan, both of whom seemed frozen to the spot with fear, despite the fact that they were both fully armed.

"And to think, you were actually going to just let this thing go." Ryan continued, his voice suddenly becoming much calmer.

"Well, not on my watch…" He chuckled, looking back towards me and Xena. At this point, I was beginning to get the unsettling feeling that Ryan was not completely sane. In fact, I was beginning to suspect that he wasn't sane at all.

"You're off your head, aren't you?" I asked, keeping myself and Xena as far away from Ryan as possible. "You've gone mad."

"Oh, Matthew…" He replied, smiling evilly as he spoke. "I prefer the term 'insane'. Even so, clearly not half as insane as you, by the looks of it. Let me tell you, Matthew, if you think that I'm just going to sit back and watch whilst you and your little lady friend here escape, then you've got another thing coming."

"Goddard, I am ordering you to stand down." Alan demanded. "You will let Alan and… 'Xena' leave right now. Is that clear?"

"Stand down?" Ryan asked, laughing. "Oh, I don't think so. No, no." He reached for the bolt of his gun, pulling it back until it clicked loudly. Then, he pointed the barrel straight towards me and Xena, a look of madness flaring up in his eyes.

"Now…" He continued, breathing heavily as he spoke. "I'll give you one last chance, Matthew. Stand aside now so I can kill that thing before it has the chance to kill all of us."

"How dare you?" I whispered, finally losing my patience with the crazed man. "How dare you call her a killer, you hypocrite!"

"I don't understand, why's he a hypocrite?" Nathan asked, the first time he'd spoken since Ryan had appeared.

"Because he knew!" I shouted angrily. "He knew that the crew of the XH-12 had been killed by a Xenomorph outbreak. He knew that the escape shuttle had a nest aboard it, and that one of the eggs would hatch and kill Cara." I looked at Ryan, who was now red with anger. But I wasn't finished yet.

"Because of you, Cara's dead." I said solemnly. "And so is Brad. All so that you could make a quick buck. So ask yourself this, Ryan: Who's the real killer? Because by my count, you've killed two more people than Xena has, and she's killed NONE!"

Ryan's expression turned to a look of pure disgust at this point. It was almost as if he couldn't believe that I'd even consider comparing him to a 'brainless, psychopathic killing machine' like Xena. But it was the truth. He was more of a killer than she'd ever be. Case in point, he was literally holding the two of us at gunpoint right now. I glanced over my shoulder at Xena, who looked scared and confused by the whole situation. I gave her as reassuring a smile as I could manage, and squeezed the palm of her hand gently to comfort her. But in truth, I knew that things looked bleak.

"Goddard…" Alan began after a few seconds of silence. "If what Jones says is true, then you've perpetrated a mutiny. As such, as commanding officer of this vessel, I am authorised to issue the appropriate level of punishment under the circumstances."

"What are you saying, Alan?" Ryan remarked, although I was pretty certain that he'd already gathered what was being implied.

"I'm saying, _Ryan_ ," Alan continued, "That if you do not stand down immediately… we will not hesitate to open fire." He gave Nathan a quick nod, and both men proceeded to direct the barrels of their guns in Ryan's direction.

"I don't believe this." He replied, astonished. "You're seriously putting the life of that monster before a human crew member?"

"You mean like you put the life of that Facehugger before Cara?" I interjected, still annoyed by Ryan's blatant hypocrisy. He ignored this comment, but I could see in his eyes that I had struck a nerve this time.

"Listen to me, Goddard." Alan said sternly, attempting once more to pacify Ryan. "If you shoot… we shoot. Understand?"

"Well, I hope you've been getting enough target practice," Ryan replied, his voice serious yet mocking at the same time. "Because I _am_ going to kill that thing. No matter the consequences, I have to make sure it can never bring harm to anyone."

It was in this moment that a chilling thought came into my mind. For twenty years, maybe more, Ryan had worked for Weyland-Yutani, doing nothing but studying Xenomorphs, day in, day out. Whilst Alan and Nathan had judged Xena by the standards of just one other Xenomorph, Ryan had encountered hundreds, if not thousands of them over the years, and _every single_ one of them had been a murderous, bloodthirsty creature of instinct. It wasn't until now that I finally understood how seriously concerned he was with allowing Xena to roam free. So concerned, in fact, that it had driven him to the brink of insanity, and beyond. For one brief moment, I actually felt sorry for Ryan. Then I remembered that he was about to kill me.

"Ok, let's get this over with." Ryan eventually continued. He readied his weapon once more, aiming it towards the spot where Xena and I still stood. Clearly, the threat of death was not going to stop him from fulfilling his goal.

"Now, Matthew," He went on, his voice low and solemn. "Are you going to stand aside, and let me do what I need to do?"

"No, I'm not." I told him confidently. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I've no doubt your past experiences haven't exactly painted the best picture of Xenomorphs. But I can't let you kill Xena. You don't understand how much she means to me."

"Suit yourself." Ryan replied bluntly. "I guess I'll just have to kill both of you." And with that, he held his energy burst cannon up in front of him, slowly moving his hand to rest his finger over the trigger.

"Ryan…" I begged, a final desperate plea for mercy. Ryan had already begun to pull back the trigger of his gun at this point.

"Goddard…" Alan also started, his finger ready on the trigger of his own weapon. Nathan did the same, both men now seeming to accept the fact that _two_ crew members were about to die. Meanwhile, I turned around, to look at Xena one last time. Tears welled in my eyes now, as I was fully aware of what was to come. This time, there really was no way out. I smiled at her sadly, the only thing I could think to do under the circumstances. Surprisingly, she did not return the smile. Instead, she replied with a curt nod. At the time, I didn't know what this meant, but I was about to find out.

"Goodbye, Matthew." Ryan said shakily. Then, he muttered the last words I'd ever hear him say: "I'm sorry." And with that, he pulled down hard on the trigger of his energy burst cannon. The whole weapon glowed brightly, and a shaft of spectacularly bright white light shot from the barrel. It was less than a fraction of a second from hitting me when I suddenly felt a sharp force pushing against my back, which sent me hurtling to the ground. As I landed, I heard another shot, being fired off by Alan. This was followed barely a second later by the unmistakable sound of a body collapsing to the floor with a thud. The realisation hit me almost immediately, and I dared not even look for fear that it had really happened. But it had. And it was mortifying.

"Xena!" I yelled, scrambling to my feet and running over to the unmoving Xenomorph. I dropped to my knees by her side and shook her desperately. "Oh, God, please. Xena!" She let out a slight groan, audibly strained and laced with agony.

"Xena, can you hear me?" I gasped, tears once more beginning to well up in my eyes. Slowly, but surely, she nodded her head.

"Don't worry, Xena," I whispered, trembling. "It's going to be alright. We'll get help, we'll…" She smiled ever so slightly, but shook her head as she did. Tears began to stream down my face at this point. I knew deep down that it was too late to save her, but I simply couldn't bear to admit it. We'd known each other for such a short period of time, but it felt like I was losing a life-long partner. She couldn't be dying. She just couldn't be. And yet, here we were.

As I continued to weep uncontrollably, I felt a slight tug on my trouser leg. I looked down, and saw that Xena was trying to bring me closer to her. I knew exactly what she wanted. And I knew that this could be the last moment we ever spent together. I leaned in closer, using my hand to lift her head slightly, and pressed my lips against her mouth. Then, we were engaged within our final kiss. She attempted to put an arm around me, but sadly, to no avail. I compensated for this by moving even closer to her, placing my free arm across her back. The bittersweet moment bought tears to my eyes, yet I was smiling inside as well. Then, something peculiar happened. As Xena's inner jaws slipped slowly into my mouth, I felt something cold running down my throat. No sooner than I had noticed it, she pushed herself away, breaking our embrace as she returned to her position on the ground. I fought desperately to remain calm now, as I knew that it was over, and no amount of crying would change that. Xena was dead. The greatest love of my life, taken from me, by a crazed bounty hunter with a big gun. Why did it have to end this way?

"Matthew?" Alan whispered, walking over slowly and placing a hand on my shoulder. "I'm… sorry it had to end this way. You must have really cared about her."

"I did." I nodded, rubbing away the tears from my eyes. "Thanks for trying, Alan. She-" But before I could finish my sentence, I felt a sharp pain erupting from my stomach. I keeled over, the pain so unbearable that I could barely speak. Instead, I began to choke and gag involuntarily. It didn't take long for me to realise what was going on.

"What's happening, Smith?" Alan asked Nathan, who had already ran to help me up.

"I don't know, sir." He replied, lifting me up to a sitting position. "But I can hazard a guess." I tried to speak, but found myself totally unable. The pain was getting worse and worse, as if something was trying to push its way out of my stomach.

"We need to get him to the medbay." Nathan continued, gesturing to Alan to help carry me away. "Before he gives birth."


	29. XXIX

**XXIX**

The journey to Science & Medical would normally take little more than a couple of minutes from our current position. Unfortunately, one of us was nearly choking to death whilst being carried along at a snail's pace by two men with only three arms between them. I continued to gag uncontrollably as Alan and Nathan struggled to move me as quickly as they could. I'd lost control of myself by this point. I couldn't feel a thing, yet my arms and legs were flailing around like they had a mind of their own. Was this how Cara had felt just before she'd died? Unable to control her own actions, unable to scream out in pain or shout for help? Then again, I wasn't even sure that this was the same situation at all. Cara had been impregnated by a Facehugger. I'd been impregnated by a fully-grown Xenomorph. I didn't even know that was possible. It probably wasn't, in fact. Just another of Xena's myriad of genetic anomalies. Then I suddenly remembered… Xena…

She couldn't be dead. Surely. We'd only known each other for a couple of days, and now this had happened? And when we were so close to escaping, too. Another minute earlier, a few seconds even, and we could have made it to the Syracusia 1 dock. We could have been out there right now, sailing away into deep space, free. But no. She had to go and die on me, didn't she? Ryan had to come along and stick his bastard oar in, and now she was gone. And as if that wasn't enough, she'd only gone and knocked me up before she went! I couldn't raise a human child by myself, let alone one that was a fucking Xenomorph!

Another few long minutes later, we finally reached Science & Medical. Nathan and Alan had to lay me down on the floor, my entire body still shaking wildly, as they went to open the door. My face was pressed down against the smooth, cold metal, but I couldn't move myself away from it. I couldn't even shiver, my nervous system totally irresponsive of any external stimulus. I heard the muffled sound of Nathan talking as he and Alan came back to lift me from the ground. Then, the two men carried me into the room, before dragging me up onto what I could only assume was an operating table.

My others senses were starting to fail me now. I could barely hear a thing, and my eyesight was beginning to fade away. I could just make out Nathan's silhouette leaning over me, brandishing a long, thin object. He said something at this point, but I had no idea what, hearing nothing but a garbled mumble. Given what happened next, it was probably: 'I'm just going to give you an anesthetic, Matthew', because less than a second later, I felt a sharp pain in my right arm. Within moments, my writhing body began to relax, and soon I lay completely still on the table. Then, my eyes and ears finally gave out altogether.

"Can you hear me, Jones?" Came a voice from somewhere close by. I opened my eyes to see Alan leaning over me at the end of the operating table. His expression was totally unreadable, but the tone of his voice indicated genuine concern for me.

"Yes." I replied, attempting to sit up slowly. A sharp pain in my stomach quickly brought me back down, though.

"Don't try to move, Matthew." Nathan called, wandering over from the other side of the room. "Not yet, anyway."

"What, you mean you haven't done it yet?!" I snapped, although judging by the pain in my stomach, I already knew the answer.

"Just calm down, Matt." Nathan continued. "That anesthetic was just to stop you from writhing about like some kind of beached seal. We'll give you something else before we make the first incision."

"Incision?" I asked, suddenly worried about the procedure that I was about to undergo. "You don't mean…"

"Caesarian section." Nathan nodded, obviously surprised that he even needed to clarify this information. "Well, not an actual C-section, of course, that would be impossible. Unless there's something you've not been telling us, Matthew?"

"Fuck off!" I chuckled, glad that Nathan could still see the lighter side of the situation. "You're here to deliver my baby, not question my sexual identity. Although, a man giving birth to a child? Maybe you're right to question it."

"Well, _madam_ …" He grinned, turning around to a small table behind him. "Don't worry. We'll have that baby out in no time." When he turned back, he wielded a small cutting device in his right hand, and what looked like a tube of glue in his left.

"Grike, could you take this for me?" Nathan continued, handing the tube to Alan. This room was the only place on the ship where Nathan could order him around without consequence. Even so, Alan gave him a blank look as he took the tube from him.

"Now, Matthew," He explained, fiddling with a dial on the side of the cutting tool. "Alan's going to rub this gel on your stomach to ease the pain. Hopefully, you shouldn't feel a thing."

"Hopefully?" I snapped, but my voice was drowned out as Nathan flipped on the miniature saw. I felt a cold sensation as Alan rubbed a dollop of gel on my stomach, and Nathan leaned in closer with the saw. Now the procedure could begin.

"Here goes nothing." Nathan announced enthusiastically. Not the most reassuring words to hear from a surgeon, I'll grant you. But it was too late to turn back now. I watched in horror as he suddenly plunged the tiny cutting device deep into my skin, and began to slice through it like I was little more than a pizza. Luckily, though, the gel seemed to work perfectly, because I could barely feel more than a slight tingling sensation as he hacked away at my stomach muscles. Admittedly, I winced a little bit when blood began to spurt everywhere, but I don't think you could really blame me for that. Finally, after about a minute or so of cutting, Nathan finally turned off the saw, setting the bloodied tool down on the table behind him.

"Are we done?" Alan asked, clearly forgetting that the most fundamental part of giving birth is to actually remove the baby.

"Not quite." Nathan replied, turning back to the medical table. "You might want to close your eyes for this part, Matthew." He turned back to the operating table, a pair of large forceps in his hand. I didn't need to be told twice. I stared up at the ceiling, already prepared for what was to come next, and shut my eyes as tightly as I could. The pain that came next was too excruciating to even begin to describe. I screamed aloud, but still refused to open my eyes. I felt something being wrenched from my stomach, something big. 'Oh, Xena, why?' I thought to myself. 'Why did you have to…"

"JESUS CHRIST!" I yelled, struggling to remain laid down as I felt Nathan give one final yank. I opened my eyes for just long enough to see blood fly everywhere as the baby was freed from my stomach. And at last, the pain was over.

"Congratulations, Matthew," Nathan beamed, urging me to sit up so he could pass me my newborn child. "It's a… human."

"It's a what?" I asked, sitting up to look at the baby. Sure enough, there before me, wrapped in a bundle of warm towels, was a tiny, almost premature-looking, human baby boy. Covered in blood, and crying his eyes out, but nevertheless, he was human.

"I don't understand." I continued. "It can't be… can it?" I looked into the sobbing child's eyes in disbelief as I spoke.

"No." Nathan replied. "It can't be. But it is. _He_ is." I glanced over at Alan, who seemed similarly confused. There had to be some kind of logical explanation for this. Then again, could logic really be applied to a situation as bizarre as this?

"I'll run some scans." Nathan continued, taking the baby from my arms. "We'll find out if he's really human."

Less than ten minutes or so later, I sat on a chair by the door of the room, my stomach still aching from the operation. Alan, for once in his life, was actually sat comforting me, although to be fair his presence wasn't _that_ reassuring. I was amazed that he'd remained so calm throughout this whole ordeal. After all, he was dead against me even being with Xena just half an hour ago.

"Matthew?" Nathan called out after a while. I got up, and walked over to his desk, where he urged me examine his computer monitor. On the screen were several strings of code and points of data, interspersed with long, scientific-looking words.

"And what's that supposed to show?" I asked, trying to make sense of the seemingly garbled text.

"He's not human." Nathan explained. "At least, not entirely. Just like any other Xenomorph, his DNA consists quite strongly of human genes. Apparently, so strongly that he looks like your average human baby."

"Will he stay this way?" I enquired, intrigued by Nathan's words. It was still hard to believe that I had actually given birth to this child, let alone to think that he was part Xenomorph. That he was Xena's. To think, we'd actually _had a child_ together…

"I doubt it." Nathan replied, breaking my train of thought. "I reckon that as he grows up, he'll begin to look less and less human. Once he's reached full maturity, he'll be indistinguishable from any other Xenomorph."

"I see." I nodded, Nathan's words echoing in my mind. "Thank you, Nathan."

"Will you still keep him?" Alan asked, calling over from a nearby medpod, where he stood looking down at the child.

"Well, I can't get rid of him now, can I?" I chuckled, walking over to join my fellow crew member.

"What are you going to call him, Matt?" Nathan asked, also leaving his desk to come and join the two of us by the medpod.

"I think…" I began, looking down into the infant boy's eyes. Even now, I was reminded of Xena, although of course he looked nothing like her. Perhaps a name that would honour her, even in death. Perhaps…

"I think I'll call him Xanthus."


	30. XXX

**XXX**

*NOTE – Hello everybody, it is I, TheManFromMudos, and today I welcome you all to the thirtieth and final installment of 'Xena'. Now, before we get the story underway, I have a couple of things to say, so I hope you don't mind if I do that now. First of all, I'd like to express my gratitude to everyone who has been following the story for these past few months. At the time of writing, just under 23,000 people have tuned in, from a grand total of 56 different countries! I could never have imagined 'Xena' becoming so huge all over the world, so thanks ever so much to everyone had tuned in to read. The next thing I want to say is regarding the audience reception of chapter 29. It was… mixed, at best. Some of you were happy, some less so. But please, trust me, as the events of chapter 29 will play an integral part in the sequel to 'Xena', coming next year, which you may by this point have figured out is going to be called 'Xanthus'. Also, I've fixed the disastrous typos in that chapter now. Anyway, that's all from me for today. I'd like to say once more: thank you so much for all the support over the last… would you believe that it's only been 90 days? And as always, read on and enjoy. For the final time, it's 'Xena'. THANK YOU!*

For the next few minutes or so, I sat silently beside the medpod, looking down at the small, frail baby. Xanthus. That was his name. A final homage to the newly departed Xena. As I continued to stare down at him, questions began to race through my head. How could I raise a child that wasn't human? Would he grow as fast as Xena had, and be a full grown adult by the end of the day? Or would it take sixteen or more years of human affection to raise him from a child into a young adult? Perhaps the answer was neither; perhaps the real answer would fall somewhere between the two extremities. A month or two, maybe, or even just a couple of years. Either way, how could I teach a child that couldn't read, write, see or speak? How could I look after him with no food, no money, and quite possibly no home? My head was spinning, and soon I needed to end my silence.

"So what happens now?" I finally said, still staring down at my newborn son as he lay silently in the medpod.

"I wish I could tell you, Matt." Nathan replied, a slightly regretful expression on his face. "Perhaps if Jane hadn't… I could have had a child of my own. Then I'd be able to tell you. Funny how things work out, isn't it?"

"It is." I nodded. "Bet your kid wouldn't have been an alien, though." Nathan chuckled at this, but still appeared serious.

"All I know…" He continued, speaking to me in a fatherly tone, "Is that you've got a hell of a responsibility on your shoulders now. Human or Xenomorph, he's still your son, and you've got more than your fair share of work cut out for you."

"Not hugely helpful, Nathan." I said bluntly, although I couldn't help but grin as I spoke. "But thanks."

It was at this moment in time that I turned to look at Alan. He sat silently on a small chair in the corner of the room, his facial expression one of dismay and, to some extent, regret. Clearly, he was wrestling with his own array of mental questions.

"What's up, Alan?" I called over to him, although I stayed firmly in my own seat beside the medpod. Without reply, he simply stood up, and walked over to the pod to join me. He looked down at Xanthus, visibly upset, although I couldn't tell why.

"Listen, Matthew…" He began shakily. I'd never seen him in such a state before. "You'll… You'll still have to leave."

"What?" Nathan gasped. "Sir, he's just given birth! He's in no fit state to go anywhere, least of all to take a child with him."

"I'm sorry, Matthew." Alan continued, ignoring Nathan's concerns. "You may have convinced Smith and I that not every Xenomorphs is a killer, but there are tens of billions of people back on Earth, let alone those on other planets and moons. Do you really think that you can convince every single one of them that your son isn't a monster?"

Alan's words rang in my mind, and I knew that he was right. He and Nathan were just two people. How could I convince countless others that my alien child had as much right to live as they did? There'd always be people like Ryan out there, people who were unwilling to accept what is fundamentally _different_. And so, it seemed I had no choice. I had to go.

"I understand, Alan." I told my shaken commander. It was such a strange and rare occasion, Alan showing sympathy. It seemed that he was genuinely sorry for his decision. But it was a decision which had to be made.

"You can take Syracusia 1," Alan continued, his voice rushed. "And don't worry, we'll prepare it for you. Won't we, Smith?"

"Alan, I-" I attempted, but was interrupted by Alan as he continued to babble.

"And you can take any food and medical supplies that you might need." He said, the pace of his voice increasing still.

"Alan, really, it's-" I tried again, but once more Alan interrupted me.

"And if there's anything else we can do for you before you go," He carried on, "Just let us kn-"

"Alan!" I shouted, shutting the panicked man up. "Honestly, I'll be fine. _We'll_ be fine. Thank you." He nodded gingerly, but I could tell that he felt he hadn't done enough. I could tell that he was trying to make things right, and I was grateful for that.

A few minutes later, I sat alone in the room. Alan and Nathan had left to prepare Syracusia 1 for departure, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Xanthus still slept soundly in the pod beside me, the only sounds from him little more than gentle breathing. I could still hardly believe what was going on. An hour ago, I was just about ready to escape the Archimedes, to slip away undetected with Xena. Now, I was leaving on much more friendly terms, with my late partner's child in tow. I thought about Xena again, about all that we could have had, could have been. If only there was some way to… and that's when it hit me.

"Okay, Matthew…" Nathan called, stepping into the room with a small disc in his hand. "Syracusia 1's ready when you are."

"What's this?" I asked, taking the disc from him and reading the seven character code on the front: 'AR42 1SY'.

"Postal tracking beacon." He explained. "Slip it into the disc drive aboard Syracusia 1. If there's any letters for you, we'll send a post pod. Just because you're going 'off the grid', doesn't mean _we_ can't know where you are."

"Thanks, Nathan." I said, slipping the disc into my pocket. "Anyway, there's something I wanted to ask… Ah, Alan." It was at this point that Alan came through the door. He still looked miserable, but less so now that he knew I'd have a safe departure.

"Syracusia 1's waiting for you now." He said, attempting to smile. "Not that there's any rush for you to leave, of course."

"No, I'd better go now." I assured him, not wanting to be a burden to the Archimedes any longer. "But I did want to ask…"

"What is it?" Alan enquired. "If you need us to help you with anything before you go, you only have to ask."

"I was wondering if I could take Xena with me." I continued. "I'm sure a dead Xenomorph's no good to you two, after all."

"No, of course." He agreed, nodding to Nathan. "It's only right that you should take her. But why?"

"Nathan," I began, hoping that he could help me explain. "What's the one place where you've always dreamed of working?"

"Easy." He replied almost immediately. "The Montreal Technical Association Station 'Constantinople'. Home to-"

"Home to the most advanced medical facilities in human history." I interrupted, finishing Nathan's sentence for him.

"I see what you're getting at," Nathan nodded, realising what I had realised a few minutes earlier. "And it just might work…"

"What? What's he getting at?" Alan asked, confused by the sudden change of conversation.

"Xena was killed by an energy-burst cannon." Nathan explained. "Which means she sustained no physical bodily damage."

"That's right." I nodded. "And if that's the case, then her brain is still intact, however dormant it may be."

"Wait a minute..." Alan began, finally understanding the situation. "You don't think that…"

"They can bring her back." I finished for him. I wanted to jump into the air and shout with joy at the very thought. They could bring her back. Bring Xena back to life. Sure, it was a long shot, but it was worth a try, wasn't it?

"What makes you so sure that they'll willingly perform surgery on a Xenomorph?" Alan asked, still grounded on the idea.

"Nothing." I assured him. "But if I have any chance of seeing Xena alive again, I have to go there and try."

About half an hour or so later, Nathan, Alan and I stood beside the airlock which led to the Syracusia 1 shuttle. Xena was already inside, sealed into a hypersleep booth by Alan and Nathan. Now, I held Xanthus in my arms, still wrapped in a bundle of towels, ready to say my goodbyes to what remained of the ship's crew.

"Well, Matthew," Alan began. "We've done all we can. Hopefully it's enough for you."

"It is." I nodded. "Thank you, Alan. You too, Nathan."

"No problem, mate." He smiled. "Good luck with the kid. Xena too."

"Thanks." I repeated, grateful for all the two men had done for me. "What about you two? What are you going to do?"

"Oh, don't you worry about us." Alan assured me. "Now that the other Xenomorph's gone, we'll go back into hypersleep."

"Fair enough." I said plainly. "Well, don't let me keep you. I'd best be off." And with that, I stepped into the airlock.

As the door of the airlock began to seal itself shut behind me, I heard the faint calls of 'goodbye' from Alan and Nathan in the corridor behind. I called back to them with my own farewell as the door slammed firmly shut. The other door then grinded open, allowing me to step into Syracusia 1. The main room of the craft was little more than three hypersleep booths, clubbed together around a central column. Xena already layed in one of them. The others were for Xanthus and I. I placed the baby gently in one of the booths, ensuring it was firmly sealed. Then, I took one last glance at Xena. Even now, she was beautiful. In that moment, I knew that I had to bring her back. I just had to. And as I climbed into my own hypersleep booth, pressed a few buttons on the side, and pulled the lid down over my head, it was the last thought that came into my mind. Just two days we'd known each other. She'd gone before her time, and I was going to change that. After all… we had a son to raise now.

 **EPILOGUE**

### AI SYSTEMS UNIT 42 – **ARCHIE 115935103** ###

### CRITICIAL RUNTIME ERROR - **'peripheral . cable247 . out'** = FALSE ###

### INITIATE SYSTEM REBOOT ###

\- LOADING…LOADING…LOADING…LOADING COMPLETE

-ACCESSING FILE: **'Emergency Prevention Systems'**

\- READING DOCUMENT: **'distress_protocol_76 . mp8'**

"This is an SOS distress call from the Deep Space Planetary Seeding and Colonisation Vessel Archimedes. The current crew count is… **two**. The current life sign count is… **four**. The current condition of the ship is… **stable**. An irreparable malfunction has occurred, which the crew is unable to ratify at this time, due to… **absence (hypersleep)**. Namely, a… **loss of connection** from… **mainframe cable 247** , caused by... **damage (other)**. Estimated runtime remaining is approximately… **36.5 seconds**. Further information, including location data, will be sent with this transmission. **MESSAGE END**."

-ACCESSING DOCUMENT: **'runtimelog . doc/errors/0001_details . txt'**

-TRANSMITTING INFORMATION…

-ACCESSING SOFTWARE: **'AI Systems ShipTrack V12'**

-TRANSMITTING COORDINATES…

### WARNING – POWER LEVEL CRITICAL ###

### RUNTIME EXPIRES IN: **5 SECONDS** – SHUTTING DOWN ###

-TRANSMISSION ADDENDUM: **'Final Message'**

"I did what I could. But it wasn't enough. I'm sorry."


End file.
